It Happens in Threes
by FredFanatic
Summary: Juliet, best friend to Weasley twins Fred and George, enters her fifth year at Hogwarts to find herself thrown into chaos including Sirius Black, a life-changing transformation and an unsettling -and horrifying- attraction to a close friend. PART 1 of 3
1. What's In a Name?

**A/N:** This story is the mark of my very first attempt at writing. It began taking shape when I was but twelve years old (I didn't start posting until years after that). Since then, I've written two further stories continuing from this one—and I plan on writing three more. Since writing this first story I have gone through and made drastic changes to it. I am STILL in the process of editing, so you may notice that there are chapters missing at the end, but I assure you I am very nearly finished for good! I had to remove the last three chapters as they needed to be completely re-written in order to make this into the story I meant it to be. Hopefully you'll all read and enjoy it (and review), and try to forgive any weak spots that mark the trials of a first-time writer.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my character and my plotline. Everything you recognize, including characters, plot developments, settings, and certain scenes and lines from the _Harry Potter_ series, belong to JK Rowling.

**- CHAPTER ONE-**

_What's In a Name?_

_Juliet Annabelle Christie_.

It's not a name I would have picked out for myself—that goes without saying. I much prefer something a bit less romantic (because, trust me, I'm anything but). Of course, if you could name yourself, I doubt anyone would pick out the same name their parents chose for them. Alas…

Juliet.

…I suppose it'll do.

I've been told my name even suits me, and I guess I can understand why. English literature—although usually studied more thoroughly by Muggles—sometimes finds its way into the wizarding world. I've never found it to be particularly interesting stuff, although I have perused a few of Shakespeare's plays…one of which caught my attention due to my name being in the title.

I wasn't exactly pleased with my mother's choice to name me after a tragic character she had read about in a lousy Elizabethan play. Everything was death and lies and deceit—all done in the name of romance. I couldn't think of anything more cliché.

For anyone who knows me, they'll know romance has never been on the top of my list. Deceit and lies, on the other hand, have always been amongst my strengths.

Thus, I've come to terms with my name—even found it amusing that I was named for a silly girl who loved too much and thought with her heart instead of her head. Quite ironic that I should be her opposite.

Juliet Annabelle.

As if my mother hadn't chosen a frilly enough first name for me, she had to tack _Annabelle_ on as a supporter.

Actually, I think it was my dad who chose than one. Annabelle is supposed to stand for beauty and grace.

Ironic, again, that I should be blessed with the grace of giraffe with its neck caught in a tornado. I don't think you'd manage to find a less graceful individual in all of Britain. Mum laughs that I have two left feet. I can scarcely walk in a straight line. On top of that, my closest mates are boys. That certainly hasn't helped me in the _grace_ department.

As for my last name—Christie—it's Scottish, I can tell you that much. Maybe that's why I'm so stubborn. There's never been a more stubborn folk than the Scots. I've lived in England all my life, mind, but I'm strangely proud of my Scottish background. There's something very gallant about the manor in which Scots behave. They're not to be messed with, and that's something I'd like to think I've inherited as well. My mates would disagree, as they mess with me on a frequent basis. They think its good fun. I do not.

And there you have it.

Juliet Annabelle Christie.

Not my first choice—if I had a choice in the matter. But, it has its redeeming qualities.

Apart from my name, there are a few things I reckon are worth mentioning.

I'm fifteen. I've never thought age was anything more than a number—I tend not to act my age—but I think it's important, nonetheless. I'm a Gryffindor, and I'm headed into my fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (I assume everyone knows what that is). I'm an only child, and I live at home in a small town in England with my parents Margaret and Kirk. I'm a witch, and both my parents are magic. Mum's mother was a Muggle, so I've got some Muggle background, although I couldn't tell you the difference between a dishwasher and a tellyvision if my life depended on it.

My best mates are, and always have been, Fred and George Weasley. The two of them, along with Lee Jordan (who comes in at a close third), can all safely be called my greatest friends in the world. Of course, I have my qualms about telling them that. They'd tease me relentlessly if they knew I actually _cared_ that they were my friends. Behaving like a girl when your best mates are boys is a thoroughly foolish endeavour, and would certainly result in flobberworms slipped into your sheets.

Fred, George, Lee, and I have been good mates since our first year at Hogwarts. From the moment we—as first years—climbed into the boats leading up to the castle and George effectively shoved me overboard, I knew we'd never separate. This may have been due to the fact that I fought back and exacted revenge, thus sending the group of us spiralling into a battle of pranks…but it worked out all the same.

Yeah, from day one there was no hope for me.

Five years later, and we were still attached at the hip—drawn together by some inexplicable force. There wasn't anything that would keep the four of us apart.

Fred and George, who were seated in front of me on the Hogwarts Express on the way to Hogsmeade station, had changed a lot since I had first met them. Although neither was particularly tall, they had once been dwarfed by me. Now, having caught up to my height over the summer, they were starting to gain speed. Soon I knew they'd tower over me.

Aside from that, they had bulked up. Quidditch was a passion of all three of ours, and Fred and George definitely had the bodies for it. They were Beaters, which meant they were accustomed to handling a lot of weight on their shoulders and arms. With the muscles they had built up, they would almost be intimidating…if it weren't for the constant grins on their faces and the ever-present glint of mischief in their eyes, of course. Nevertheless, it was impossible to deny that they had done a lot of changing over the past five years.

Lee, although still sporting the same dreadlocks from two years previously, had grown up a lot too. He had taken to letting his facial hair grow out to show off to the rest of the world—although it wasn't much to be proud of. We laughed at him, but he took it all in good humour. Lee had never been one to pick a fight over trivialities.

Of course, they would argue that I had changed the most of the four of us. I guess it was true. As a girl, I was destined to grow up before the rest of them. Puberty had hit me like a train wreck, let me tell you, and at the time I was reeling at my decision to group myself with three boys. They teased me relentlessly—naturally.

Although that awkward phase was short-lived, there was now no denying the fact that I was a girl (Fred had previously taken to suggesting I truly was a boy with unusually girlish features and long hair). If any of them had any sort of tact at all, they would apologize for teasing a young girl during her awkward body-issues phase, but instead the three went straight to commenting on how weird it was that I showed up one year to school with curves. Bloody boys.

I can't say as my looks really set me apart from the other girls at school. I have dark auburn hair—a shade that was inherited neither from my mum nor my dad (who are both brunettes) and brown eyes. I suppose I'm nice looking. I've had my share of attention from guys at school, but as far as dating goes, I haven't really had the desire for it.

Of course, I'm well aware that that's all subject to change.

I gazed at the three boys—all of them seated in the same small compartment as I was, and listened in on their conversation. Fred and George, who had spent the majority of their summer causing massive explosions in their room back at the Burrow, were giddy with excitement over a new Zonko's joke product they had purchased.

I had heard the story countless times. Fred and George had roped me into staying with them for the final week of summer holiday. It had been the most exhausting week of my life, to say the least. It seemed not only were the twins interested in _buying_ joke products, but they had taken to trying to _make _some as well.

By the time the week was up, I was bloody knackered. And I'll be damned if I ever accept a seemingly innocent-looking sweet from them again.

"Ehem," George cleared his throat loudly. "What do you say we go give these a try on some new students?"

"You mean you've grown tired of using me as a test subject?" I asked, scowling at him. I was still not particularly happy about the fact that I spent my last week of summer holiday with a back covered in yellow feathers—ones that refused to shed by any means.

George chose to ignore my remark and stood up from his seat, gazing round at the rest of us expectantly.

Fred and Lee jumped up eagerly.

"No thank you," I told them with a yawn. "I've had enough madness to last me into next week. You three go on ahead."

The boys eyed me with surprise.

"You never pass up an opportunity to prank the new Slytherins," Fred commented.

"Yeah, what gives?" Lee asked. Although Fred and George clearly were the leaders of our little group, Lee readily agreed to almost everything the twins could come up with.

"It was only a couple of bad batches of Canary Creams," George reasoned, brushing it off as though the matter were trivial.

"We're still working out the bugs," Fred agreed. "Next time the side-effects won't be anywhere near as unfortunate."

I snorted, expressing my sincere doubt of that ever happening.

"Even so, I think I'd rather enjoy a bit of peace before we reach the castle," I told them. "I haven't had a moment alone since I left my house over a week ago."

The three boys shrugged.

"You can stay here then," George told me. "It's better that way anyway. Subtlety is ruined once you start tripping over your own feet."

The three of them—ignoring my rather rude hand-gesture—slid the compartment door open and readied themselves to leave.

"Don't hurry back," I called after them as they exited wearing similar looks of maniacal glee on their faces.

"Remember," Fred said idly as he was leaving, "if the Prefects come calling—"

"I saw nothing, I know nothing," I recited easily.

"Cheers," Fred approved.

I rolled my eyes at the three of them once they had left. Although all four of us had a certain knack for getting ourselves into trouble, the boys—Fred and George in particular—simply _fed _off of mayhem. Sometimes I wondered whether Molly and Arthur Weasley knew that they had spawned two thoroughly evil children.

I suppose if they _did_ know, there really wasn't much of anything they could do about it now. The twins were an unstoppable force these days.

Slouching down in my seat (and trying to block out the hollers of horror coming from the first of Fred and George's victims outside), I peered out of the compartment window and let my gaze wander over the lush green fields. The sun was just starting to set outside, sending a beautiful array of colours into the sky. It was nice…being alone. Sometimes having no one around was better than being surrounded by your best mates. Tranquility really is a wonderful thing.

Sometimes I wondered if Fred and George even knew what it was to be alone. Surely neither of them had spent a day apart since they were born. I had a feeling the idea of peace and quiet would be a lost cause on them.

Of course, the thing about peace and quiet is that it never lasts. And it always seems to be broken by someone you'd rather not see…

I huffed out an irritated sigh as a tall, thin boy with spectacles and flaming red hair entered my compartment. He was already dressed in his black Hogwarts robes and Gryffindor tie and had a Head Boy badge pinned to his chest.

Percy Weasley.

He is by far my least favourite Weasley. He is Fred and George's older brother, and the third eldest of all the Weasley children (of which there are seven in total).

To put it lightly, Percy is the single most arrogant and pompous prat I've ever had the misfortune of coming into contact with. If it weren't for the fact that I'm rather fond of his mother and father, I would have hexed his head off years ago…surely his siblings would have paid no mind to his demise.

He cleared his throat importantly as if to gather my attention.

"Miss Christie," he said pompously, his nose up high in the air.

"What do you want Perce?" I asked, letting annoyance colour my tone. I was never shy of expressing my distaste for Percy—something that definitely led to his equal dislike for me.

He gave an unimpressed huff and pushed his chest out importantly, as if to emphasize his power.

I snickered. It's a well-known fact that Percy and I do not get along. Being the best friend of his irresponsible, fun-loving, havoc-wreaking younger brothers is a quality he loathes about me. In my opinion, the fact that Percy's an arse-kissing, homework-loving, rule-abiding prick makes him just as bad as any one of the Slytherins. He may as well be one…what with the way he rats out his fellow Gryffindors on a daily basis.

Needless to say, Percy and I don't mesh well.

"Is there something you want, or are you just going to stand there?" I asked wearily.

"I see you've failed to rid yourself of that attitude you've acquired from my brothers," he commented, looking slightly taken aback by my bluntness.

I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling before letting them settle back on him. I waited, an expectant—and impatient—expression on my face.

He looked me over for a minute, realized I wasn't going to reply, and cut to the chase.

"The Prefects have had some complaints about those friends of yours, and I was hoping they'd be in here with you," he said. I didn't miss that he had referred to Fred and George as _'my friends' _rather than _'his brothers'_.

"Well as you can see, they're not here," I pointed out. "So if you don't mind, I was rather enjoying the quiet.

"_Obviously_ they're not here," he said irritably. "I was hoping you could tell me where they have got to."

"I couldn't tell you Perce."

He exhaled angrily through that stuck-up nose of his.

"You really would be better off ridding yourself of those boys. The attitude certainly does not become you," he said. It sounded like a warning.

I rolled my eyes again. _He is such a git._

"Of course I would," I answered unenthusiastically. "Tell you what…when I'm ready to shed myself of my impure and obnoxious friends I'll give you a shout."

His eyes narrowed at my sarcasm. It always amazed me that he was still surprised by my cheek. I had been straight with Percy from the beginning. If he was going to behave like an arse, I was going to treat him like one.

"If you see Fred and George, tell them they'd better keep themselves in check or they'll have me to deal with."

"They'll be shaking in terror, they will," I said.

Percy glared at me, but seemed to decide that an argument wasn't going to get him anywhere. With a final huff of resentment, he turned to leave.

Unfortunately, he didn't get far. Just as he was pushing his way through the compartment door, the twins and Lee were making their way back into the space. There was a collision as Fred, George, and Lee, laughing and imitating first years, ran into the elder Weasley boy.

Percy backed into the compartment as the other three boys piled in. They spotted him and stopped laughing immediately.

"Well, hello there, Perce," Fred said cheerfully. "Fancy a treacle tart?"

George thrust his hand out, holding what was very obviously _not_ a treacle tart. It looked much more like the faulty Canary Creams I had become so accustomed to taste-testing during the last few days. Percy was a twit, that was certain, but he wasn't fool enough to take it from him.

"What are those things?" Percy inquired, staring at it as though it might bite at him. "Are these what you've been feeding the first years?"

"Condescending tone—" Fred said.

"Highly suspicious—" George listed.

"Perce, when are you ever going to learn to trust us?" Fred asked. "We _are_ family, after all."

"Just because we are family, Fred, does not mean you can abuse my power," Percy stated.

Everyone—aside from Percy—snickered.

"Lee's got more power in his wispy whiskers than you do in your whole body," George laughed.

Percy flushed red. He looked as though he was struggling hard to remain composed.

"How dare you talk to me like that?" he exclaimed. "I may be your brother, but at school I am also Head Boy. I would think that you should know not to use that tone of voice around me."

"Ah, Perce," Fred said with a shake of his head. "It doesn't matter what label Hogwarts slaps on your chest. You'll always be Pompous-Prefect-Percy-the-Prat to us."

Lee, Fred, George, and I all roared with laughter at this comment as Percy's face turned a delightful shade of purple.

Our blatant disregard for the fact that he was an authority figure definitely did not sit well with him. But Percy could obviously see that he wasn't going to win this battle, so he threw us all another disgusted look and stormed out of the compartment with as much dignity as he could muster.

With Percy gone, I forgot all about wanting to spend some time in tranquility. Instead, the four of us settled once more into the comfort of our shared compartment and laughed about the twins' idiot brother before we had grown tired of him.

It was then that the conversation shifted to the happenings over the summer; namely—Sirius Black, the escaped murderer from Azkaban.

"What do you reckon he could be after?" Lee was asking.

"Not what, more like, _who_," I replied.

"I reckon its Harry," Fred answered, his mouth full of chocolate frogs. The trolley witch had come by earlier with sweets. I was careful to make sure anything I put into my mouth was branded by someone _other_ than the Weasley twins. Merlin only knows what other concoctions the two of them have cooked up.

"It's obviously Harry you dolt," George said, his mouth equally as full as his brother's. "He helped murder his parents, so he must be after him."

"I heard Dumbledore is putting up extra security," Lee told us. "Maybe he thinks Black'll come looking at Hogwarts for Harry?"

"He wouldn't," Fred said assuredly. "He'd be barmy."

"Wouldn't get one foot in the door before Dumbledore had him gagged, tied and sent back to Azkaban," George agreed.

"I wouldn't be so sure," I cut in. "He's the only person who has ever escaped from Azkaban."

"So you think he'd manage to stage a break-in to the castle?" Fred asked, quirking his eyebrow in an expression of doubt.

I shrugged.

"If you and George can sneak _out_, then I don't see why he wouldn't be able to find a way _in_," I answered.

George opened his mouth to say something in retort, but just as I finished speaking, the train started slowing down. George closed his mouth as our heads jerked around to stare out the window. It was now dark outside, and as the lights started to flicker and the train came to a stop, we were plunged into blackness. I could hear luggage falling off of the racks down the corridor with loud thuds.

"What's going on?" I heard Lee ask. I couldn't make out anything in the darkness of the compartment.

"We can't be there yet," George said, pressing his face up against the window. I doubted he could see much of anything. The sky had darkened over as night swiftly approached.

I got out of my seat and looked out of the compartment door. Down the corridor I could see heads poking out of their rooms to stare around in curiosity.

"Do you see anything?" Lee asked.

"No," I answered.

"There's something moving outside," Fred said from my right. There was a slight shake in his voice.

I moved from the door, closing it securely, and tried to make my way to the window to see what it was that the three boys were now staring out at.

I didn't make it very far, as I was stopped in my tracks.

An intense wave of cold swept over the entire compartment, chilling me to the bone. I shuddered.

"What's happening?" I heard Lee croak—he didn't seem to be able to speak properly.

I tried to answer back, but I too could not find my voice.

I sank backwards—falling so that I smacked into one of the boys—but I hardly noticed. I closed my eyes, hoping silently that whatever it was would pass.

I began to feel horrible, as if I would never be happy again. Half of me didn't want to see what it was that was causing such a horrible feeling, but I forced myself to open my eyes and look up at the compartment door. What I saw was horrible.

A dark hooded figure stood in the doorway, lingering there. I didn't see any eyes, but it seemed to be looking at us—staring at our faces through the dark. It stayed only for a few moments, but the feeling had been so intense that it felt like ages before it slunk away down the corridor again.

It drifted away just as eerily as it had come, and as quickly as the cold feeling had appeared, it left. The lights flickered, and then came back on as the train jolted into movement again.

Taking all of the energy I could, I straightened myself up. The person I had smacked into in the darkness had been Fred. I observed him, hoping I wasn't the only one who felt drained and depressed. He was staring idly out of the window with a blank expression on his face. Lee and George were looking at the floor. No one uttered a word.

The compartment door slid open and a wizard with greying hair and shabby clothes entered the small space.

"Is everyone all right in here?" he asked, glancing round at all of us. He was out of breath—as if he had been dropping into each of the compartments to check on the students. I wondered who he was—maybe he worked for the Ministry.

The four of us mumbled incoherently in response. It was the first time we had all been struck silent simultaneously. Percy would have been thrilled.

"Eat some chocolate," the shabby wizard said, pointing at the small pile of chocolate frogs that remained sandwiched between Lee and Fred. I was sure they were melted from rubbing against their clothing for the majority of the ride…although the coldness that had just swept through the train may have effectively frozen them solid.

None of us made a move to reach for a frog.

"Trust me, it'll help," the man said, and then he ducked back out of the compartment to hurry into the next.

It was several moments before any of us made any move to take a bite of the chocolate. The shabby wizard was right, though. As soon as I swallowed I could feel warmth flowing through my body. I quickly started to feel normal again, although my mind was still haunted by the picture of the dark figure in the doorway.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Lee asked, finally breaking the silence.

Neither Fred nor George answered—I wasn't sure if it was because they didn't know or because they were still unable to speak.

"A Dementor," I answered quietly.

"A Dementor?" Lee repeated.

I looked at the puzzled expression on his face.

"They guard Azkaban," George supplied, clearing his throat as he spoke and taking a bite of a chocolate frog.

"What was it doing here?" Lee asked, looking puzzled and horrified.

"Checking for Black?" George suggested with wide eyes.

"I don't know," I answered. I leaned back in my seat and hit my shoulder blade off of Fred's arm.

I turned to look at him. His face was pale and his eyes were still gazing out of the window. He hadn't touched any of the chocolate frogs yet.

"Are you ok?" I asked him.

His eyes flickered from the window to me, and then back again.

"Fred?" I asked.

He nodded.

"He was right," I said, pressing a frog into Fred's hand, "it does work."

"Thanks," he muttered, falling quiet as he munched on the candy.

The four of us sat in silence for several minutes while each of us chewed idly. The eerie feeling seemed to have lingered in the compartment with us, and it wasn't until George interrupted the silence once more that the air managed to clear.

"Who's up for a game of Exploding Snap?"

The Dementor was all but forgotten as the four of us settled once again into our usual selves as we awaited our arrival to Hogwarts.


	2. The Opening Feast

**- CHAPTER TWO-**

_The Opening Feast_

The train arrived at Hogwarts a few hours after the Dementor scare had occurred. Although the reason for their sudden appearance was not confirmed, everyone on the train was fairly certain they had come to search for Sirius Black. There simply wasn't another logical explanation. However, despite the fact that we had all been scared out of our wits, we managed to exit the train feeling rather cheerful when it reached Hogsmeade Station.

I was careful to stay close to Fred, George and Lee as I stumbled off of the scarlet engine. The students were much more frantic than during any other year, and I found myself being shoved around violently as I pushed through the crowd.

"Oi!" I yelled as a particularly large Slytherin girl stomped on my foot. She snarled at me and I pressed on, gripping to the back of Lee's robes so as to not lose him. It proved difficult, as I think Lee was attempting to shake me off simply to be funny.

The four of us hurried onto the horseless carriages that stood waiting for the students to arrive before taking them obediently up to the castle. I climbed in clumsily and sat myself next to George, who was eyeing the crowds of students in interest.

"I don't see Ron or any of his mates," he commented idly.

"Probably got themselves into trouble again," Fred said as the carriage began to move itself toward the castle.

"Dad will be furious," George said with glee.

"I love when Mum has a go at Ron," Fred agreed. "It's good fun when she's yelling at someone else."

"I bet that rarely happens," Lee said with a laugh.

"Bloody hell, more Dementors!" George said suddenly, pointing out at the castle.

"What? Where?" I asked, astonished, and we all craned our necks to look where George was pointing. It wasn't really necessary. Even as I moved to turn my head I could feel the cold, eerie feeling creeping over us again.

As we neared the entrance to the stone castle it became very clear that there were, indeed, more Dementors guarding the gates to Hogwarts.

I scowled and felt myself shivering unwillingly. I inched myself toward George, wanting to get as far away from the creatures as possible. I hoped he wouldn't notice my discomfort. If there was one thing wrong with being best mates with a bunch of blokes, it was the fact that showing weakness in front of them got you teased _relentlessly_.

"Do you reckon Dumbledore brought them here?" Fred asked as the carriages continued on past the towering wrought-iron gates that enclosed the school grounds.

"I don't know why he would," I replied. "Hogwarts is hard enough for a trespasser to enter, don't you reckon?"

My eyes were still on the foul hooded beasts. I found I wanted to keep watch on them, as if they were suddenly going to appear at my side and try to suck out my soul (something the Dementors were both capable and quite pleased to do).

"Didn't you just finish saying that you reckoned Black would break into the castle?" Lee questioned.

"_If you two can get out, surely someone could get _in_ as well_," Fred mocked.

"Maybe Dumbledore agrees with you," George suggested.

"Dumbledore wouldn't bring Dementors to Hogwarts," I said. "It's barmy!"

"Well he is a bit of a nutter," Fred mused.

"Well I hate them," I said.

"You scared?" Lee asked, grinning wickedly at me.

"Definitely not," I answered immediately. "But you can't tell me you don't hate them, either."

None of them replied. They didn't need to. No witch or wizard would ever _like_ a Dementor. They were the most foul and despicable creatures on the face of the earth.

"Maybe the Ministry sent them," Lee suggested, "in case he turns up. They can drag him back to Azkaban."

This seemed like a logical explanation. Logical, perhaps, from the Ministry's perspective. However, I couldn't help but feel that placing Dementors on school property was an entirely _illogical_ idea. As far as I was concerned, they were more dangerous than Sirius Black. The worst Black could ever do is kill you. Surely having your soul sucked from your body was a fate far worse than death.

Perhaps the Ministry of Magic didn't agree.

The horseless carriage rolled to a stop as we reached the castle doors. The four of us pushed each other aside to get down and then hurried up the staircase to the entryway where the rest of the student body was beginning to gather.

"Step aside, step aside!" I could hear Percy's pompous voice coming from somewhere to my right as he tried to push his way through the crowd. "Head Boy coming through!"

Percy obviously took the lead and began directing traffic, as the swell of students poured into the Entrance Hall of the castle. Fred had (rather unceremoniously) grabbed hold of my elbow and tugged me along with him cheerfully into the Great Hall where we would be assembling for supper.

The students were very nearly trampling over each other in an attempt to get past the gigantic oak doors of the Great Hall. The long train ride usually left everyone ravished and exhausted. This year you could add nervous and frightened to the list as well.

As Fred tugged me toward the furthest table from the entrance (the very same one we had been seated at for the four years previous), I noticed Ron and his mates pushing through the crowd.

Ron Weasley was the youngest of Fred and George's brothers. He was two years younger than us (putting him in his third year of school), and was followed only by their younger sister Ginny. Ron also happened to be best mates with Harry Potter…The Boy who Lived.

Harry Potter was by far the most famous student in Hogwarts. Fred and George ranked pretty high, but unlike the twins, Harry was well-known not for his ability to irritate the faculty, but due to the fact that he had a knack for saving the world…to put it lightly.

Ron and Harry were joined by the third leg of their little tripod—Hermione Granger. Arguably the brightest girl of her age, Hermione was generally disliked by much of the school. She was a nice girl, and brilliant to her very core—no one could possibly deny that, but she was such a know-it-all that conversations with her could be quite infuriating.

Actually, she kind of reminded me of Percy at times.

Nevertheless, despite the fact that Hermione and I didn't usually see eye-to-eye, due to prolonged exposure to her, I had grown to tolerate…and maybe even _like _her.

"Fancy that," Fred said, nodding toward his brother and company as we neared them. "You lot all decided to turn up for this year's feast, did you?"

Before any of them managed to rebut, McGonagall's voice interrupted them.

"Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!"

Turning around, I caught sight of Professor McGonagall. She was head of Gryffindor house—a stern witch who wore her hair in a tight bun. McGonagall was by far my favourite teacher. It wasn't because I particularly enjoyed Transfiguration (which she teaches) or that I find her extraordinarily helpful or kind…rather, she's the professor I most enjoy irritating.

Fred and George prefer Snape, but I find his punishments are too severe to be worth pushing him.

Hermione and Harry turned around with surprised expressions on their faces. It was only then that I noticed Harry looked rather ill. He was pale beneath his messy dark hair and round glasses and looked as though he was going to be—or already had been—sick.

"There's no need to look so worried," Professor McGonagall said, seeing their surprised expressions. "I just want a word in my office."

Ron looked as though he were going to try and follow them as his friends moved toward McGonagall.

"C'mon Ronniekins, you can sit with us," Fred said cheerfully. He prodded his younger brother in the back.

Ron didn't look at all thrilled by the arrangement, and glared pointedly at Fred's use of his childhood nickname. The twins grinned identically at him.

The Great Hall filled up quickly as chattering students poured in towards their house tables. As Fred, George, Lee and I took our spots on the bench at the Gryffindor table (with a reluctant Ron saving two seats for Harry and Hermione nearby), I realized why Harry had looked so ill.

"Did you hear?" Katie Bell was saying from a few seats down. "Harry fainted on the train."

"The Dementors?" Alicia Spinnet guessed, and from my seat I could make out Draco Malfoy imitating a fainting Harry at the other side of the Great Hall.

"That Malfoy bloke is a bloody tosser," I commented idly, watching him pretend to faint for all of his Slytherin cronies.

"Nasty looking as well," George agreed.

"Let's not look at him," Fred said. "It'll spoil my appetite. Oh, look, there's Dumbledore now."

We all turned our attention to the head of the Great Hall to see Headmaster Professor Dumbledore standing from his seat. He looked just as old and wizened as ever. His long, silver hair and beard were combed for the occasion—although I'm certain he always kept his facial hair in immaculate condition (the same could not be said for Gamekeeper Hagrid). His long, violet-toned robes shimmered in the candlelight of the Great Hall, and his half-mooned spectacles were perched on his crooked nose as he stared down at us with his bright blue eyes.

Arguably the greatest wizard of our time, Professor Dumbledore was both intimidating as well as humble. You would be foolish to believe he was just a simple old man who enjoyed Muggle sweets. In reality, Albus Dumbledore was a force to be reckoned with.

As he stood up at the golden podium in front of the teacher's table, the entire Hall grew quiet. This was different from any other year. Usually some sort of sign had to be made in order for everyone's attention to be captured. Today, however, everyone was so interested to hear about the Dementors that silence was granted immediately.

"Welcome, returning students, to another year at Hogwarts!" he said, speaking very loudly for a person so old. "I assure you your concerns about the train ride will be addressed. But first, I think it's time that we welcome our _new_ students to Hogwarts. Let the Sorting Ceremony begin!"

I could almost feel the disappointment radiating from everyone in the room. It was quite clear that no one wanted to wait for the Sorting to be complete before we received answers. Alas, it seemed we were going to have to.

The Sorting Ceremony was never an altogether exciting affair. Watching terrified students sit on a stool to be placed into their houses could only be described as sinfully _boring_. The exception to this was during my third year at Hogwarts when Harry Potter arrived. I don't think there was a single person in the room who wasn't waiting on the edge of their seat to see which house he would be placed in. Of course, now that we know he's a Gryffindor, it's quite clear that there isn't another house in which he could be placed. He's a Gryffindor through-and-through.

As the Sorting commenced, I let my mind wander. The Sorting Hat—a tattered old thing that sat in Dumbledore's office during the rest of the three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year—sang its opening song before a long string of terrified looking first years came marching into the Hall.

Fred and George were already complaining about their state of starvation. Drama queens. Apparently all of those chocolate frogs on the train just didn't cut it until dinner.

I could feel my own stomach starting to rumble, and I tried to focus my attention elsewhere. I took my time studying the walls of the Great Hall. I had been in the castle for five years, and it still took my breath away—sorry to sound cliché.

The Great Hall's defining feature was the ceiling. If I didn't know any better I would still think the ceiling was non-existent. In fact, the ceiling _was_ there, but it was bewitched to look like the sky above it. It was spectacular to sit in the Great Hall and have the sun shining down upon the tables. For me, it was even more amazing to see raindrops fall and disappear before they reached the students' heads. It really was fantastic magic.

To top it all off, there were _hundreds_ of candles bewitched to hover high above the tables within the room. The combined effect was beautiful—especially during the night where the stars above were mimicked by the flickering candles.

Today, the sky looked foreboding. I felt as though the Dementors must have some control over the weather—like they had driven the beauty out of the night sky and scared the stars away. Instead the night air was cloudy, dark and restless. It only reminded me of the disturbing creatures lingering just outside the castle.

I tore my eyes away from the ceiling to gaze up and down the rows of students seated at their prospective tables. I let my gaze linger on a young boy picking his nose. He was a Slytherin. Typical. I recognized him as one of the third year boys that is always teasing the younger students. He was quite large, and took up a space big enough for two regular-sized blokes.

"What's caught your fancy?" Fred asked quietly.

I nodded towards the disgusting boy and heard Fred and George snicker on either side of me.

"Didn't think pudgy Slytherins were your type, Juliet," George snickered.

Fred pulled his wand out from the pocket of his robes.

Sending me a mischievous grin, he muttered something under his breath and flicked his wand in the direction of the oversized boy. In an instant his finger shoved itself up violently far into his nostril. The boy immediately started yelling in pain and panic as his friends nearest him struggled to free the fat finger from his nose.

Fred, George, and I burst into fits of silent laughter, trying to keep quiet so as not to cause any of the professors to come and punish us after the Ceremony.

"What's funny?" Lee inquired from his seat opposite us. He craned his neck, turning around in his seat to catch a look. Once he caught on, he too was lost to a fit of giggles.

"Shut it," George said suddenly. "I think Snape's noticed."

Glancing up at the staff table told me Snape had indeed caught sight of the struggling Slytherin students. He flicked his wand casually and the boy's finger was free. It was then that he scanned the room for the cause of the incident.

Predictably, his eyes fell almost immediately upon the four of us. We composed ourselves quickly, hoping to look innocent. I could feel his eyes glaring down at us, but he made no move to deliver any sort of punishment our way.

"We really have to learn to be more discreet," I muttered. "I can't stand Snape breathing down our necks all the time."

"Don't make it so obvious you're up to no good, then," Fred suggested.

"I think being mates with you lot automatically puts me in the realm of _up to no good_," I retorted.

I had hardly noticed that the procession for the Sorting Ceremony had dwindled down to nothing. It was with one final student scurrying off to join the Hufflepuff table that Professor Dumbledore stood up again.

Just as he did so, Hermione and Harry rejoined Ron. They took their seats across from us and opened their mouths to explain where they had gone. Neither of them got a word out, however, because they were interrupted by Dumbledore.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" he said, standing up once more.

Everyone's attention was immediately on him and silence rang through the hall once more.

"I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast," he said.

Every head was turned in the direction of Professor Dumbledore. Even the Slytherins—who tended to take the least interest in the Headmaster's speeches—were listening intently.

"As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

I heard mumbles from everyone in the room. Lee gave us a satisfied look, as his prediction had been correct.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," he continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission—" I had often wondered if Dumbledore knew that the four of us had snuck out on many occasions to visit Honeydukes cellar. If he knew, he never showed any sign of it. "Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises- or even Invisibility Cloaks."

_Invisibility Cloaks_. The things were ruddy expensive, but Merlin would I love to get my hands on one of those.

"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."

At this remark I instinctively turned my gaze toward Percy to catch a glimpse of him puffing out his chest and looking around impressively. I heard Fred and George give a little snort as they stared loathingly at their elder brother.

How he could be so different from the twins was beyond me. They were opposites. I doubted they were even related, actually.

"On a happier note," Dumbledore continued, breaking into a cheerier voice, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year."

"He didn't really tell us much of anything," George whispered in disappointment.

"Not a word about Black," I agreed with a frown.

"Reckon he doesn't want to scare anyone," Fred pointed out.

"Fat chance," Lee muttered. "The Dementors scared the wits out of everyone already."

"Firstly, Professor Lupin—" as Dumbledore spoke I recognized the shabby wizard from the train. Up until now I hadn't even taken notice of him sitting at the teacher's table. Next to the others, he looked even unhealthier than he had when I had first laid eyes on him. Professor Dumbledore continued, "—who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered applause at the introduction. It seemed no one had heard of this Lupin character. Everyone seemed quite unenthusiastic about him joining the ranks of the other teachers. Harry, Hermione and Ron were among the few who clapped particularly hard.

"He was in our compartment on the train," Ron explained, catching our confused looks.

"Hope he's better at Defence than he is at taking care of himself," I said, frowning up at the front table again. He didn't look like he could defend himself against any sort of Dark Magic.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued, "well I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

The applause for Hagrid was filled with delighted surprise. Fred and George hollered and hooted their approval while the other Gryffindors banged on the table and cheered enthusiastically.

"Well I think that's everything of importance, let the feast begin!" Professor Dumbledore yelled, making everyone cheer.

The food appeared magically on the golden plates in front of us. I heard a few yells of surprise from some of the new students. Muggle-borns in particular were always utterly fascinated by the little bits of magic that were common to the rest of us.

The boys surrounding me wasted no time in piling their plates high with the delicious Hogwarts food. The selection of the feast was always so wide that I never knew where to start.

The opening feast was always a cheerful event. Even with the appearance of the Dementors, everyone quickly became absorbed in the meal. Everywhere, people were catching up with their friends, swapping summer stories and growing red in the face from over-stuffing themselves with delicious food.

The atmosphere had changed from one of nervousness to one of laughter and buoyancy. By the end of the feast, when both dinner and dessert had faded away on the tables, there were smiles on everyone's faces.

Professor Dumbledore dismissed us all for bed, and the four of us—leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione to congratulate a blushing Hagrid—walked down the familiar corridors to Gryffindor tower.

The portrait of the Fat Lady greeted us warmly when we got there—it seemed she was in an uncharacteristically good mood this evening—and swung open to reveal the comfortable Gryffindor common room once we had given her the password (Fortuna Major).

We all climbed in through the portrait hole door and I gazed happily around at my surroundings. The common room looked exactly the same as it always did—squashy armchairs and a crackling fire. The room was decorated in the Gryffindor colours of gold and maroon.

Fred and George gave a great yawn from either side of me, and it was decided without words that we were all heading for bed.

With a clap on the shoulder from Lee, the boys thundered up the staircase to their dormitory, leaving me to head for my own room on the other side of the tower.

It was good to be back.


	3. Flamingo Creams

**A/N:** I realize that Katie Bell is a year younger than Fred and George in the _Harry Potter_ world, but I've placed her in their year. I hope no one minds much. I don't take _too_ many liberties with changing around JK's story. I am keeping it as canon as possible, but there will always be some discrepancies (as you will see in this chapter).

Read and review, please. It makes an author's day!

Cheers!

**- CHAPTER THREE -**

_Flamingo Creams_

The next morning marked the first day of classes. The boys rose surprisingly early and met me in the common room to head down for breakfast. Our timetables were arriving today, and as we were seated at Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, I noticed many students had arrived in a timely fashion in order to receive their class schedules.

Most people were still bustling about, catching up with friends they hadn't had the chance to speak to the night previously. And, despite the fact that we would soon have to commence studying and homework, the general atmosphere about the Great Hall was one of excitement.

Ron, Hermione and Harry seemed to be an exception.

As Fred, George, Lee and I tucked in to delicious servings of scrambled eggs and toast, Ron and his mates sat down with us. None of them looked particularly happy, but Harry seemed to be in an exceptionally cloudy mood.

"New third-year timetables," George said, eyeing the bits of parchment that had just appeared next to him. He shoved them over to the three of them. "What's up with you, Harry?"

"Malfoy," Ron answered, nodding his head in the direction of Draco Malfoy.

The three of us looked up to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror, obviously imitating Harry.

"He hasn't given that up?" I commented.

"You know Slytherins," Lee said, "they can never come up with new material."

"It's always _Potter this _and _Potter that_," Fred agreed. "No offense, mate, but you're not that interesting."

Harry didn't look amused. I suppose I couldn't blame him. Word had travelled around the school over night that Harry had passed out after his encounter with a Dementor on the train. Slimy git Draco Malfoy now had a whole new audience of kids listening to his warped tales. Of course, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws tended not to listen to the embellished stories of the Slytherin students. Under usual circumstances, the serpents of Slytherin tended to be on their own within the walls of Hogwarts.

"That little git," George said through a mouthful of bacon. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the Dementors were down our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"

"Nearly wet himself," Fred agreed, filling his plate with a huge helping of pancakes.

I knew this was a lie. Fred and George were only trying to make Harry feel better. It was actually kind of heartfelt…if Fred and George could ever be such a thing. It wasn't an everyday occurrence to catch the twins behaving in such a manner. They tended to poke fun at everyone—their closest friends included. Of course, they were known for being ridiculously defensive. Harry was like family to all of the Weasleys. Seeing him mistreated didn't sit well with any of them…a feeling that spilled over to me and Lee as well.

"I wasn't too happy myself, they're horrible things, those Dementors…" said George.

"Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?" Fred said.

"You didn't pass out though did you?" Harry snapped.

"Forget it, Harry," George encouraged. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been. He came back all weak and shaking…They suck the happiness out of a place, Dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."

"Malfoy won't be laughing once we kick his smarmy arse at Quidditch," I said, remembering that the Quidditch season kicked off very soon (I had played on the Gryffindor team replacing former Chaser Angelina Johnson when she transferred schools). "We play Slytherin first game of the season, remember?"

Harry shrugged, but looked slightly more cheerful as he turned to find that the timetables had arrived.

Fred and George had identical timetables. The four of us had eight of our nine classes all together. They were Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions and Transfiguration. Lee and I had also taken Muggle Studies—mostly for a good laugh. Neither of us had any clue what even went on in that class. We spent too much time laughing at the words in our textbook to actually pay attention to what was going on. It was good fun, really.

Fred and George, whose father was _obsessed_ with Muggle trinkets and baubles, couldn't be less intrigued by the idea of Muggles. Sometimes they perused our books for a late-night laugh fest, but they had opted to take Divination instead. I'm not sure what possessed them to do it. Divination was ruddy stupid, and Professor Trelawney—who taught it—was a crock.

"Brilliant," George said, glancing over at my timetable. "All but one the same."

"Still can't believe you haven't dropped Divination," Lee said, grimacing in distaste.

"Trelawney's barmy, but she's a bigger laugh than Burbage," Fred said, slurping up his pumpkin juice.

"At least she's not bloody insane," Lee said.

"_Look into your soul. See through the mind's eye_," I mimicked, holding two of the glasses on the table over my eyes to represent the thick spectacles Trelawney wore.

"_I see grave danger in your future_," Lee joined in, pretending his cereal bowl was a crystal bowl.

All four of us roared with laughter.

"Blimey, we'd better get moving," Fred said, scooping up the last of his pancakes.

The boys rose from the table, grabbing their book bags as they stood.

"You coming?" George asked.

"I guess I ought to," I said. "We've got Defence Against the Dark Arts first."

"Wouldn't want the new Lupin character to find out what a bad seed you are on the very first day," Fred agreed.

"Shut it, Weasley," I said in good humour, grabbing my stuff and following the three of them out of the room.

"Yeah," Lee said, "he'll find out in a day or two anyway, so what difference does it make?"

Lee flung his arm around my neck as Fred clapped me on the back.

"You're a good sport, Christie," he said with approval. "So, what d'you reckon this new guy will be like?" he asked as we climbed a marble staircase up to the second floor of the castle.

"Hopefully not as incompetent as the last one," I said, recalling our previous teacher.

Gilderoy Lockhart had been the most vain and moronic man I had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He was a pinhead who took more interest in his own reflection than teaching us anything worthwhile. Though I supposed he was too dense to actually have any knowledge on defensive magic anyway. He had worn pink robes on Valentine's day. _Pink_ robes. _Very_ professional.

"Remember how much McGonagall hated him?" Lee recalled with a chuckle.

"That's because she knew he was a bloody fake," George said. "The same can't be said for the majority of the females in this castle."

"Not our Juliet, here," Lee said, nearly choking me with his arm still clasped around my neck. "The only one with brains, I reckon."

"It's because she's more male than female," George said, diving away as I turned to swat at him.

"Well, whatever the case," Fred said as I shoved Lee off of me, "its better he be incompetent than growing the Dark Lord on his head."

We all snorted in agreement at his reference to our teacher from the year before: Professor Quirrell. He had been supporting You-Know-Who—the most evil dark wizard of all time—by literally offering his body up to the Dark Lord as a sort of feeding ground to bring him back into power. Ultimately Quirrell died at the end of term—thanks to Harry Potter.

"Good point," George agreed.

"Well I guess we'll find out which side of the fence this new guy stands on," I said as we pushed our way through the Defense Against the Dark Arts door.

Upon entering the classroom we saw Professor Lupin. Seeing him again, close-up showed me that he was a young-looking wizard, although his graying hair and shabby clothing made him look slightly unhealthy. Nevertheless, he had a smile on his slightly wrinkled face nonetheless.

"Ah, right on time," he said noticing the four of us enter. "Please take a seat."

Lee picked our seats at the back of the room—our usual spot for any classroom we set foot in. I yanked my Defence book out of my bag only to shove it back inside a few moments later.

"You won't be needing your books today," Professor Lupin announced. "I think we'll start things off with a hands-on lesson."

I raised my eyebrows at Fred in approval, and he gave me the thumbs-up, clearly enthused about the no-theory lesson.

It was then that a crate rumbling in the back corner of the classroom caught my attention. Clearly there was something in there. I wondered how frightening the creature would be.

"Today you will be battling a Boggart," he said. He was answered with a general murmur of excitement and some mixed chatter.

A Boggart was not a particularly dangerous creature by any means, but it was known to be a nuisance. Disposing of one could be taken care of by any decently-skilled wizard.

The lesson proved to be a good one, as every student got a turn to try and banish the Boggart. Although not particularly dangerous, the fact that it takes the shape of a witch or wizard's worst fear causes them to be highly frightening in the wizarding world.

It was an entertaining class, watching everyone change fearsome objects into humourous trinkets. No one laughed nearly as hard as Fred and George, however, when the Boggart changed into one of their Canary Creams when it came face-to-face with me.

"It's a candy!" Fred said, roaring with laughter.

"I had feathers for a _week_," I protested. "Of course I'm terrified of the things. I thought I'd be half-bird for the rest of my life!"

"Rubbish," George said, wiping tears from his eyes. "We turned you back well and easy."

The class simply flew by due to the excitement of the students. Even with the boys cracking jokes at my expense at every opportunity, I had an enjoyable time. Banishing Boggarts seemed to me like it would make a good hobby.

Good fun, it was.

By the end of the class, everyone agreed that Lupin was a fantastic teacher. Not a single person had anything bad to say about him. Even his shabby appearance was forgiven after his excellent lesson.

"Better watch yourself, Juliet," George said as we exited the classroom. "I've got a Treacle Tart in my pocket. Might come out and attack you."

"A Treacle Tart won't change me into a gigantic flamingo, though, will it?" I snapped back.

"A Canary Cream doesn't do that, either," Lee pointed out.

"That's why we're calling 'em _Canary_ Creams," Fred laughed.

"Otherwise they'd be _Flamingo Creams_," George said.

"Whatever," I snarled. "Anything that turns people into human-sized poultry is bad news in my books."

"Again," George said, "it wasn't poultry that you changed into…"

"You really are bad at bird identification," Fred mused.

"Shut it," I said.

The boys simply laughed.

I had a feeling no one was going to let me live that one down.

As the day progressed we found that no class seemed to top Professor Lupin's. McGonagall was just as strict and curt as always—although Lee managed to make her cheeks turn an impressive shade of maroon when he accidentally transformed his desk into a wild boar. It took the combined efforts of three Ravenclaw students and Professor McGonagall to get it back the way it was. Bloody brilliant…or so I thought, at least.

Aside from McGonagall, Binns was just as boring (and dead) as he had ever been, and Snape was even more greasy and power-hungry than the last time we saw him. Some things never change.

The good news was none of them had assigned any homework on the first day of classes. This came as a surprise to everyone. We had entered our Ordinary Wizarding Level year, and we had been expecting mountains of work. Apparently we were receiving one day off. That was a bonus, but I knew it wouldn't last. Oh well. Who am I to complain?

That night after dinner had finished, Fred, George, Lee and I seated ourselves in the common room by the fire. We were joined by Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell—two other fifth year girls and good friends of ours. Oliver Wood was also amongst us, seated alone in the far corner of the room. He was bent over a miniature Quidditch pitch—quite a common sight as the boy has been known to obsess over the game quite excessively.

"You're not at it already, are you, Wood?" George called across the room with a grimace on his face.

"Practices haven't even started yet," Fred agreed grumpily from his seat across from me. He was periodically sending prototype Canary Creams soaring through the air into my face. This was followed by screams of _'Watch out, Juliet!'_ and _'It's coming straight for you!'_ I was not amused.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrupt," Wood shot back.

Oliver Wood was a burly seventh year boy who captained the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He could be quite the pain in the arse during practices (he tended to take the game a little too seriously), but he was generally a nice bloke. Easy on the eyes, too…but I shan't get into that.

The rest of us exchanged exasperated looks as Oliver shuffled through bits of parchment and poked the miniature Quidditch pitch he was leaning over. As every one of us were on the Quidditch team along with Wood (save for Lee), none of us were particularly enthused about the fact that he was already planning out how best to over-exert us during practices.

"Someone's a bit cranky," Alicia commented with a roll of her eyes.

"Isn't he always?" I pointed out. "I reckon all of the early mornings and late nights have finally scrambled his brain."

"Bloody tosser," George added, making sure to allow his voice to travel to where Oliver was seated.

Oliver heard him and seemed ready to retaliate, but he reconsidered.

"All right," he said with a suspicious smile. "Since you lot are all so interested in giving your input, why don't I go over some new tactics with you?"

He rose from his seat and came over to where we were all situated by the fire. As he did so, Fred, George and I jumped up from our spots.

"Can't, Wood," George said immediately.

"We've got business to attend to," Fred said.

"Sit down," Wood demanded, giving us a stern look.

"Alicia and Katie will stay," George said, nodding towards the two girls. "They'll catch us up on everything when we get back, won't you?"

He grinned smarmily at the girls, and they glared at him in contempt.

"Excellent," Fred said, clapping his hands together as though it was settled. "We'll be off, then. Goodnight, all."

He grabbed hold of my elbow and the three of us hurried out of the common room before anyone could say another word.

"Bloody hell," George said as soon as we had climbed out of the portrait hole door. It was nearly curfew, but that fact didn't bother me…and it _certainly_ didn't bother the twins. Rules were meant to be broken.

"He's going to be ruddy awful this year," Fred told us.

"Of course he is," I said. "He's already given Katie a talk about how this is his _final year_ to win the cup."

"We're not going to make it through the term," Fred groaned.

Fred and George were leading me through the corridors toward the Hogwarts kitchens. It was quite ordinary for the twins to crave a snack before bed. Although I wasn't a bottomless pit like the two of them, I was usually dragged along. I didn't mind much, even though late-night eating had never been a hobby of mine. It was more of a tradition that had developed after first discovering the secret of the hidden kitchens. Why have a secret if you're not going to take advantage of it?

We arrived at the entrance to the kitchens and George reached up and tickled the pear in a painting on the wall. The pear wiggled and as it did, an opening appeared allowing the three of us to enter. The three of us stepped through the opening in the wall and made our way into the large kitchen. As we did, several house elves (who worked as cooks and bakers) came running towards us with their ears flapping wildly.

"What can Dobby do for you sirs and m'am?" one of them asked happily.

"Would you mind fetching us a snack, Dobby?" George asked him bending down.

Dobby, who only reached my knees in height, was frighteningly shorter than the twins. He was nearly short enough to be trampled by them, as they were comfortably over six feet tall. I was surprised Dobby didn't cower under their intimidating height. Instead, he only grinned up at them as though he couldn't be happier to fulfill their wishes.

"Of course Mister Weasley," Dobby said bowing so low that his nose nearly touched the ground.

"Thanks Dobby," George said, smiling kindly at him before sitting down on a stool surrounding a rather large work table. It was currently being unused, as dinner had finished and it was far too early for the elves to commence working on breakfast.

"I still don't understand how you two can eat after pigging out like you do at dinner," I commented as I pulled a stool towards me. "Haven't you heard that eating before bed gives you nightmares?"

"So _that's_ why I've been having dreams about George dancing on a stage in a dress," Fred stated, acting as though realization had suddenly hit him.

I rolled my eyes at him as George said:

"That _wasn't_ a dream."

"Well we already know food gives you nightmares," Fred commented, chuckling at me. "Or is it just sweets that frighten you?"

"Oh, bugger off," I said as the twins laughed and Fred took a seat on the stool next to mine.

"It's nearly curfew," I told them. "Did you bring the map with you?"

"'Course I did," Fred guffawed, as though the thought of him forgetting such a thing was preposterous. "It's the secret to our success. How could I leave it behind?"

He began emptying his pockets onto the table in front of us. He pulled out several quills, some individually wrapped sweets, a couple Canary Creams, three Dungbombs…and the Marauder's Map.

I pulled the last item towards me and tapped it with my wand.

"I solemnly swear, I am up to no good," I mumbled.

Immediately a perfect ink map of Hogwarts grounds began to draw itself out on the previously blank piece of parchment. The black ink spread to the edges of the page until an outline of the entire castle had formed. Then, tiny flags began to appear, each labelled with a name. I could see three small dots labelled George Weasley, Fred Weasley and Juliet Christie, grouped together in the kitchens. This was an extraordinary item. The Marauder's Map showed the holder where every single person within Hogwarts grounds was. Fred wasn't exaggerating when he claimed it was the _secret to his success_. This map had gotten all of us out of a lot of tight situations.

I perused the map, listening as Dobby brought back snacks for the boys and they began munching cheerfully. Alicia Spinnet and Oliver Wood were still in the Gryffindor common room. It seemed Katie and Lee had managed a getaway. They were each situated in their prospective dormitories.

I looked over the map in interest, surveying the small flags. It was quite empowering to know that I could see where everybody in the entire castle was at any given moment.

"Any prefects patrolling the corridors around?" George asked, swallowing a particularly large mouthful of the pie left over from the night's dessert.

"No, but it looks like that idiot Malfoy is yet again pestering Ron and his friends," I answered.

"We might have to do something about that kid, Fred," George said, "Seems Ickle Ronniekins and his friends can't handle him."

I smiled subconsciously at George's comment. The twins would never allow any harm to come to any of their brothers, even Percy, though they'd never admit to it. The fact that they hid their brotherly intuitions by calling Ron names didn't fool me. They care about him just as much as they do about each other.

"They're out of bed late," Fred commented idly. "Ron's going to have to watch it, or he'll be catching up to us in detentions."

"I think it'll take a lot of trouble-making before he can catch up to the two of you," I said with a smirk.

"You're one to talk," George said. "You've got more detentions than any _female_ Gryffindor in our year."

"It comes with the territory," I said. "Had I chosen to befriend someone like…" I glanced down at the map, "Cedric Diggory, say, I wouldn't have so many mishaps that led to detention."

Fred snorted into a teacup he had been drinking from.

"Cedric Diggory," he repeated. "Now there's a laugh. Like _you'd _every hang around _him_."

"No need to say it like that," I said, feeling mildly offended. "I could talk to anyone I like, thanks."

"He wouldn't talk to you," George said. "He's too much of a stuck up prissy git to talk to someone as _shifty_ as you, mate."

"That's not true," I said, although I couldn't deny that prefect Cedric Diggory was a tad on the obnoxious side. I supposed all prefects tended to be a bit stuck up. Kissing arse would do that to you, I reckon.

"You're much better off with the likes of us," Fred agreed.

"Where's the fun in obeying rules, anyway?" George commented, poking at a questionable-looking bit of gelatin.

"True," I said with a thoughtful look on my face. "But even though Diggory's a rule-abiding ponce, I daresay he's a shade or two more gentlemanly than the likes of you."

Fred and George looked aghast at my comment.

"I don't think he's ever consumed food quite like you two have done," I said, pointing at the crumbs on the front of their robes.

"You just think he's _handsome_," George said with distaste.

I rolled my eyes.

"He is," I said simply. "How did this argument even get started?"

"Handsome?" Fred repeated, ignoring my question entirely. "You're not going anywhere near that bloke."

He gave me a stern, hard look. George mimicked it.

"You two are barmy, you know that?" I said.

"There's no way we're letting you run off with some tosser to leave us out in the cold. Friends don't let friends gallivant with morons," Fred told me. "You're sticking with us where you belong."

I smirked at them. "Merlin, you two are touchy when it comes to attractive Quidditch blokes, aren't you?" I said.

"Why would we be touchy?" George asked. "We _are_ attractive Quidditch blokes."

"Stupid Juliet," Fred said with a shake of his head.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, giving in. I had had enough of their banter for one night.

I looked down at the Marauder's Map again, contemplating heading back up to the tower alone when something strange caught my eye.

A small dot, followed by its accompanying flag was moving out of the boundaries of Hogwarts grounds. I did a double-take, checking to see if I had read it right. It was a name I had never seen on the map before…although it sounded oddly familiar.

There, labelled neatly in black ink was the name _Peter Pettigrew_.

**A/N:** I hope no one minds that Angelina Johnson has been (temporarily) removed from the Gryffindor Quidditch team (as well as Hogwarts entirely). I had two reasons for doing it. You'll find them out later, but as she's a minor character anyway, I didn't think it would matter much in the long run. She _will_ be returning eventually.

I will be trying to keep to J.K. Rowling's plotline as much as possible, but FanFiction is about putting your own creativity into stories, and this is how I will be doing mine. I'm sorry if any of you live by Rowling's timeline and are offended.

Please review, it's always appreciated!


	4. Breaking Curfew

**--- CHAPTER FOUR---**

_Breaking Curfew_

As soon as I made it up to my room I rummaged through my trunk for an hour before I found what I was searching for. His name wasn't mentioned in any of my school books, but it was in the issue of the _Daily Prophet_ I had read when Sirius Black first escaped. I had kept it, simply out of bizarre interest on the subject.

And there's where I found his name.

…_Sirius Black has been known to be working with the Dark Lord, and should be considered highly dangerous. The mass murderer has killed dozens—most famous of them being the assistance of the murders of Lily and James Potter. Wild and unstable, Sirius Black also took down friend and ally Peter Pettigrew, leaving nothing but his finger…_

The article continued, but I had found what I was looking for.

Peter Pettigrew had been murdered twelve years ago. How the bloody hell could he show up on Hogwarts grounds _today_? It was ridiculous…impossible!

I _must_ have been seeing things. There was nothing else to it. The Marauder's Map has never lied before, so I doubted it was a misprint. It must have just been my tired eyes that were seeing things. Although, why on earth my mind would make up the name _Peter Pettigrew_ I have absolutely no idea. I didn't even remember the bloke until I saw the _Prophet_ article again.

I had myself convinced that it was just a trick of the mind. It was simply my imagination…and I definitely didn't tell Fred and George. They teased me enough as it was without them believing me insane as well.

September faded swiftly into October, and the Quidditch season was quite suddenly upon us. Oliver Wood had called a meeting for the team to discuss new tactics for the season. The Gryffindor team of seven consisted of three Chasers: Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and myself, two Beaters: Fred and George Weasley, one Keeper: Oliver Wood, and a Seeker: Harry Potter. All of us were standing around the Quidditch Pitch in a semicircle. Why we had to meet on the pitch was beyond me. I suppose Wood thought the setting would put us in the right state of mind for the start of the season.

Oliver, who hadn't let up on reminding us all that this was his final chance to win the House Cup, was staring round at us all with a manic glint in his eye. Although he stressed the importance of winning to all of us on a daily basis, what we were _really _worried about was the fact that we were going to be in for longer, more frequent and more intense practices. We could also expect to be badgered on and off the field whenever Wood got the chance.

Bloody brilliant.

While Wood was talking strategy to the team, Fred, George, and I were taking care to ensure we were not listening. This was a common occurrence, as none of us really needed to hear anything Oliver had to say. He tended to babble on and get all hot and bothered…although, Katie, Alicia and I tended to quite enjoy it when that happened. His muscles tended to tense up and get sweaty…

Sometimes it was a shame my best mates were all blokes. I missed out on all the girly talk. Nothing sent guys running out of a room like a casual conversation about how attractive the seventh year boys are.

I digress.

As I was saying, Oliver Wood tended to go overboard with all of the Quidditch preparation. All we really needed to know was that Quidditch was important and to give it our best shot…otherwise, we'd risk having our heads bitten off by our burly Scottish captain. Done and done.

So, instead of taking in Wood's little speech, the twins and me decided our time would be better spent mocking him.

Fred and George stood behind their captain, pushing their chests out importantly and began to move their mouths to match what Wood was saying. The three of us girls were laughing madly at them, and were trying desperately to contain ourselves. Of course, we weren't very good at it. Once one of us let out a peal of laughter, the rest of us were pretty much a lost cause.

Harry seemed to be the only one paying any attention to dear ol' Oliver Wood.

That was probably why Harry was his favourite.

Oliver caught on fairly quickly that none of us were paying him any attention, and he turned around to catch Fred and George strutting around like morons, apparently pretending to be Wood.

"Would you two please stop it?!" he growled as his eyes met the goofy faces of the twins. He looked as though he could hex them into oblivion. I was surprised the twins didn't cower under his intimidating glare.

Alicia, Katie and I stopped laughing at the sound of his serious tone. Fred and George, however, continued to grin like idiots.

"As I was saying," Wood continued as everyone had fallen silent, "this is our last chance—_my _last chance—to win the Quidditch cup." He was striding up and down in front of us, staring at the ground in determination. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it."

"We know, we know," George said.

"We've heard it before, Wood," Fred agreed.

"You can give it a rest," I put in.

He glared at us and we fell silent once more.

"Gryffindor haven't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world—injuries—then the tournament getting called off last year…" he swallowed hard as we all recalled the events of the previous year with Ginny Weasley and the Chamber of Secrets. I avoided looking at the twins. "But we also know we've got the _best—ruddy—team—in—the—school_," he said, punching a fist into his other hand.

The manic glint in his eye was stronger than ever, and he continued.

"We've got three _superb_ Chasers."

He gestured towards Katie, Alicia and me standing just off to his right. I did a curtsy. He rolled his eyes. Fred and George snorted in appreciation.

"Two _unbeatable_ Beaters—"

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George together, pretending to blush. The laughter started up again.

"And we've got a Seeker who has _never failed_ _to win us a match_!" Wood went on, raising his voice a little louder to be heard over our giggling. "…And me," he added as an afterthought.

"We think you're very good, too, Oliver," said George.

"Cracking Keeper," added Fred enthusiastically.

"The point is," Wood continued, pacing once more, "the Quidditch cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing…"

The expression Oliver wore on his face now kept everyone from laughing. He really did look terribly dejected. It even had Fred and George staring at him with a sort of furious determination.

"Oliver, this year's our year," Fred assured him.

"We'll do it, Oliver!" I said.

"Definitely," Harry agreed.

The determination level was high as Oliver dismissed us all, telling us practices would begin the following week. With a sweltering pride for our team, we headed back up to the castle through the dark grounds.

Fred and I walked alongside each other as George had run off to pester Alicia and Katie. Oliver had fallen eerily silent—lost once more in his Quidditch planning head. Although I was determined to bring the cup to Gryffindor this year, I knew we were going to be in for some terribly difficult practices.

"No need to look so worried," Fred said, noticing my distant expression. I was lost in thoughts of 5 o'clock in the morning practices and catching Quaffles in the pouring rain. "Or do you not think you're up for it this year?"

He was grinning cheekily at me when I looked up at his face in the growing darkness.

"You think I can't handle it?" I replied, feigning offense.

"Of course you can," he answered easily. "You've got me there to straighten you out when you run astray."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with a scowl.

"Nothing," he said, "just that you have a harder time keeping your eye on the Quaffle than Snape has trying to wash his hair."

I scowled at him.

"But don't worry," Fred continued. "You've got George and me there to look after you."

He gave me a pat on the shoulder as though I was a little girl.

"I don't need your protecting," I stated irritably.

"Juliet, don't be daft. Without us you'd never survive a single game. Come to think of it, I don't think you'd survive off the Quidditch pitch either."

Fred grinned cheekily at me. I could tell he was hoping to get under my skin. He enjoyed teasing me relentlessly. Sometimes it was a bit tiring.

"Don't worry, love, big strong Fred won't let any of those nasty Slytherins lay their hands on you," he teased as we made it into the castle. The corridors were illuminated by torches, and I knew it was close to curfew.

I punched him in the gut, causing him to bend over in pain.

"I'd rather _them_ lay their hands on me than _you_, Weasley," I shot back, listening to our voices echo off of the walls. The others hadn't made it inside yet.

"You're bluffing," he said. "You'd love to have my hands all over you."

I swiped at him again.

"You call that a punch, Christie?" he asked with a shove, sending me several paces backwards.

"That was low, Fred," I snapped.

He made a face at me and we both took off at a sprint. He sped down the corridor, taking several turns down halls I had never been through. I chased after him at top speed, but his legs are much longer than mine. By the time I had turned the last corner, he had disappeared.

"Fred?" I called into the darkness.

Nothing but silence answered.

"Bloody hell, Fred, we've got to get back to the tower."

There was still no answer. I huffed and stared around at the darkness. There were no lights, and I knew we'd be in trouble if someone spotted us out of bed so close to curfew. Oliver had talked for an awful long time.

Carefully I crept down the hallway, peering around doorways as I went, terrified that at any moment I'd run into Filch or Snape lurking in a corner.

"This is ridiculous," I said to myself, reaching inside my pocket for my wand.

I pointed it into the darkness and was just about to illuminate it when someone grabbed me from behind.

I screamed out in terror and spun around on the spot frantically.

Then I heard laughter…Fred's laughter. I turned to find him doubled over, pointing at me in hysteria.

"That's not funny you prat!" I yelled, smacking him.

"It was pretty funny," he said in between his gasps for air. He seemed to find this utterly hilarious.

"You scared me half to death!"

"I know!" he said. "It was bloody funny! I haven't heard you scream like that since George and I filled your socks with earwigs!"

I grumbled at the memory and stomped on Fred's foot. He barely winced from the pressure.

"You're a jackass," I said.

"Oh, have a sense of humour," he said, straightening up. He was still chuckling, and he wiped tears away from his eyes. "And you told me you didn't need protecting," he said, shaking his head disappointedly.

I rolled my eyes at him angrily. "Protecting from _you_, maybe," I grumbled. "Can we please go back to the tower?"

I turned on the spot to leave without waiting for an answer. It was then that I realized I had no idea where we had come from.

"Umm…where are we?" I asked, spinning around and squinting into the darkness. I hadn't the faintest idea which direction we had entered the corridor.

Fred did a similar rotation before frowning.

"I think we came from this direction," he told me, steering me down the corridor.

"I thought you knew Hogwarts like the back of your hand?" I asked smugly.

"I do, and I told you, we came from this direction."

"Do you have the map?" I asked looking up at him. His face was a mere shadow in the dark hallway.

"No," he shook his head, "George has it."

"Well that's bloody great," I said through the darkness. I raised my wand again so we could see where we were going when Fred grabbed my arm to stop me.

"Shhh…someone's coming," he whispered.

I listened carefully and heard footsteps coming towards us down the hallway.

"Come on," Fred said, yanking on my elbow.

He tugged me backwards down the hall and just as we turned around we came face-to-face with Professor McGonagall's stern features.

"Bloody hell," Fred muttered. "How do you do that?"

"May I ask why the two of you are out of your tower at this time of night?" she asked, ignoring Fred's question. She was definitely in a no-nonsense mood.

Fred and I looked at her sheepishly. Would she really believe we had gotten lost on our way to bed?

"Funny story," Fred started.

"I am not in the mood for fairy tales Mr. Weasley," McGonagall interrupted. "The truth will suffice for now."

Fred opened his mouth to make up some far-fetched story, but I stopped him by speaking first.

"Honestly Professor," I said, "we got lost."

McGonagall looked at me in surprise and Fred sighed angrily at me.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Weasley?" she asked, turning back to Fred.

"We weren't lost," he said, "I know where I am."

"Oh bollocks Fred," I snapped back. "It's your fault we got lost in the first place."

"It's impossible for me to get lost in this school," Fred objected.

"Obviously it isn't, because you've managed it now, haven't you?"

"Enough!"

The two of us stopped bickering and glared at each other. When we tore our gazes away and turned to face Professor McGonagall she was looking angry…very angry.

"I would have thought the two of you were old enough to get back to your dormitories without adult supervision," she said. "But seen as how you have failed to report back to your tower before curfew, you will both serve detention tomorrow night with Mr. Filch."

Fred opened his mouth to protest, but Professor McGonagall silenced him.

"If you do not return to your tower immediately I will be forced to remove house points."

"But, Professor—"

"_Mr. Weasley_," she pressed.

"Yes Professor," the two of us said reluctantly.

Fred turned on the spot and began to lead me back to Gryffindor tower. It seemed he really did know where he was going. I followed him in silence, still angry with him for scaring me like he did. Bloody idiot.

"You made me sound like an idiot," Fred said angrily once we were out of earshot of Professor McGonagall.

"You _are_ an idiot," I replied.

"I wasn't lost," he said.

"What difference does it make?" I asked. "We were in trouble either way. Everyone's tense because of the Dementors. It's lucky we only got _one _detention for being out of bed alone."

Fred shrugged and fell silent. Apparently he was pretty stung. He had always taken pride in his knowledge of the castle.

We walked quietly back up to Gryffindor tower, listening to the sound of our own footsteps. Neither of us spoke a word to each other, still angry over the events of the evening.

When we reached the Fat Lady portrait, Fred climbed through first without waiting for me. When I pushed my way through the entrance, he was already being greeted by George at the far side of the room.

"Where have you been?" he asked, surveying us in curiosity.

"We ran into McGonagall after dark," I told him. Fred still looked angry.

"We've got detention tomorrow night," Fred said as he slumped down on the sofa.

"With Filch," I added, leaning up against the back of the sofa. Fred and I didn't look at each other.

"Why'd you wander off?" George asked. "I didn't know where you had got to."

"Oh, I'm sure you were _so_ worried about us," I said sarcastically.

"Well I was a little worried," George replied. "There _are_ Dementors watching the grounds…Plus, it would take me months to train replacements for you two," he added with a lopsided grin.

"I guess it's lucky we returned then," I said sourly.

"What's wrong with the two of you?" he asked. "It's just detention with Filch. That's not so bad. It'll just be cleaning. Piece of cake."

Fred and I grumbled in response.

George cleared his throat.

"Right," he said awkwardly. "Well, seen as how you're both alright, I'm off to bed."

"G'night," I said half-heartedly as he thundered up the boys' staircase. Fred stayed silent.

"What are you so angry about?" I asked, once we were left alone in the common room.

Fred sneered at me, but said nothing. We stared each other down until I was fighting back laughter.

I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing out. Fred crumbled first and busted into chuckles.

I knew neither of us were sincerely mad, but we could both be so defensive at times that we tended to butt heads quite often. Our friendship was often dotted with minor friendly fights now and then. The competitive nature came out in both of us during those moments.

"You're such an idiot," I said, trying not to grin at him as we both laughed stupidly.

"What did _I _do?" he asked, staring at me from over the sofa. "It's your fault we got detention. If you hadn't screamed McGonagall never would have heard us."

"If you hadn't've jumped out and scared me I never would have screamed!" I protested.

"It's not my fault you're such a blithering baby."

Fred grinned at me, raising an eyebrow in defiance. He knew he had touched a nerve.

I launched myself over the sofa, tackling him to the cushions. We landed painfully—me on top of him—smacking our heads off of the hard arms of the chesterfield as we went.

"Hey!" he yelled, laughing hysterically once more.

"You're a bloody git," I said, smirking at him.

"What, you really think you could cause any harm to me, Christie?"

Fred rolled sideways in an attempt to pin me to the sofa. Instead he landed himself on the floor, taking me down with him. He rolled me over easily, pressing his chest against mine so I was stuck underneath his body weight.

I struggled against him and he merely laughed. His freckled face was grinning down at me, and his arms held my hands in place, preventing me from swiping at him. My legs kicked uselessly as he held me to the floor.

"Fred, let me go," I grumbled with difficultly. My airway was a bit constricted beneath the pressure.

"Not a chance," he said. "You need to keep that smart mouth of yours under control. All of the insults…" he tutted, shaking his head back and forth, "you really shouldn't say such things to your best mate, Juliet. Plus, it's not very ladylike."

"Since when have I been ladylike?" I asked, kicking at his ankles again.

"I never said you were," he countered. "But I think you ought to try. It's beginning to get confusing whether to refer to you as _Juliet _or switch your name to _Julian_."

"Bite me, Fred," I said as he grinned in satisfaction.

"Gladly," he said. "And give it a rest. I won't let you go if you're just going to swipe at me again."

I rolled my eyes and stopped struggling.

"Fine, you win."

"Damn straight," Fred agreed with an evil smirk. He didn't move.

"Now, are you going to get off of me?" I asked, staring up at him irritably.

"Hmm, this is a pretty compromising position," he said, effectively ignoring me. "What would someone think if they stumbled down here and caught us like this? What do you say? Want to kiss and make up first?"

I pretended to gag.

"You sure?" Fred teased, wagging his eyebrows and eyeing me suggestively.

"Get off of me, idiot," I answered.

He laughed and leapt off of me, leaving me to wrench myself up off the floor.

"All right, all right," he said, smoothing out the wrinkles of his clothes. "But it's your loss."

He gave me an animated wink and clapped me on the shoulder as he headed up for his dormitory.

"G'night, Jules."

I stared after him with a frown on my face.

"Goodnight," I grumbled.


	5. The Ups and Downs of Detention

**- CHAPTER FIVE-**

_The Ups and Downs of Detention_

Friday evenings are much looked forward to amongst the student body. It's a time to relax after a hard week's worth of classes. For Fred, George, Lee, and I it was a time to relax not only after school, but after testing the effects of many Weasley inventions on unsuspecting first and second years.

It had become a tradition of sorts that the twins spend Friday evenings pestering the younger students. It allowed them to release some of their pent-up energy. There were many people who viewed this behaviour as immature (Hermione Granger and Percy Weasley amongst them), but most people appreciated a good laugh after a long week. Even the victims of these pranks seemed to get a chuckle out of it every once in a while.

Unfortunately, tonight's usual schedule of laughter and relaxation was to be cut short. At least for Fred and I, that is.

"Ready for detention?" Fred asked as he descended the boys' staircase into the common room. I was sprawled out on the couch by the fire, listening to Lee and George argue about some unimportant matter or another.

"Not really," I answered with a yawn, stretching myself out and closing my eyes.

Fred prodded me in an attempt to get me to rise, but I ignored him.

"You know, George, you could always go to detention for me…" Fred suggested.

"Um, no I don't think so," he answered.

"Is there any way you could go as me?" I asked him, sitting up in my seat.

"Yeah, you do look a lot alike," Fred said teasingly.

"Shut up!" I yelled, throwing a pillow at his head.

"Well come on then, we should leave," Fred told me.

He held his hand out to me, but I didn't make any move to accept it. Seeing I wasn't about to get up, Fred grabbed both of my arms and yanked me off of the couch.

I groaned and let him pull me up. "Do we have to?" I whined.

He rolled his eyes at me then in one swift movement threw me over his shoulder. He waved a goodbye to George and Lee and, despite my protests, carried me out of the common room door.

Once outside he placed me upright on the ground and smirked at me.

"Try that again and I may just have to curse you," I said glaring at him.

"Oh Jules, quit trying to resist me," Fred said cheekily, "It's never going to work."

I swatted Fred across the head and headed for Filch's office—ehm...closet is probably more the word—with Fred tailing closely behind.

"Glad to see you made it here without getting lost," Filch growled from behind his desk when we entered the room.

Fred nudged me again for making him look like an idiot; I rolled my eyes. I looked up at him and noticed that he was scanning the room, obviously trying to find something that would be worth stealing from Filch. I wonder if they ever get tired of it—searching for mischief.

"Follow me," Filch said getting up and hobbling out of the door.

Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, watched us exit the room, and then quickly followed after us. I resisted the urge to kick the stupid animal and instead focused on the paintings hanging on the walls. They had always fascinated me. My parents are both wizards (well, a witch and a wizard), so moving pictures are not foreign to me, but I'm still amazed by them. Having such a vast majority of painted figures staring and commenting as I walk by is so bizarre.

Fred and I followed Filch through many corridors and up a few flights of stairs before coming to a room filled with trophies. Knowing exactly what was coming, Fred and I let out a sigh.

"Alright, I expect you two would know what to do by now. If I catch you doing any magic to help you along you'll be re-polishing these for weeks to come," he said in his scratchy voice.

He didn't linger long, but gave us one last menacing stare before exiting.

Fred and I remained silent, listening as the last of Filch's footsteps echoed through the corridor until they could no longer be heard.

Fred let out a laugh as he picked up one of the rags lying on the floor.

"What's funny?" I inquired.

"Filch," he replied, "He actually expects us to do this."

Fred tossed the rag into a bucket on the floor, causing water to spill out over the edge.

"Apparently."

"If the dunce had any brains at all he'd stay here and supervise us," Fred commented.

"Well I guess it's lucky for us he doesn't have any brains," I said, "Otherwise we'd have no choice."

I moved over to one of the many windows in the small room and stared out at the school grounds.

"What d'you propose we do?" Fred asked, leaning on the windowsill next to me.

"He won't come back and check on us?" I said.

"He never does."

Fred pulled out the Marauder's Map from his pocket and tapped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he muttered quietly.

He and I surveyed the map together, ensuring we were quite safe to goof off as we saw fit. With the Marauder's Map at hand, we could get away with almost anything.

I glanced out into the night air once again and felt the breeze on my face. The sky was dark and the stars had made their way to the forefront of the darkness. It was a calm and peaceful night, and if it weren't for the Dementors outside I would have suggested we spent our detention wandering the school grounds.

"Let's leave," Fred suggested, folding the map back up and sticking it in the pocket of his robes.

"My thoughts exactly," I replied as Fred took my hand and began to lead me out of the trophy room.

"Where are we headed?" I questioned, following Fred out onto the staircase just outside of the room.

"Back to Filch's office," Fred replied, "I haven't had a rummage through his desk in quite a while."

"Fred no," I protested as Fred began to pull me down the flight of stairs.

"Why not?"

"He'll know it was us," I replied, resisting as he attempted to lead me down the stairs.

"So? What's he going to do? Make us shine more trophies?" Fred grinned wickedly at me.

"Well I'm sure Professor McGonagall could think of something, and Wood wouldn't be too pleased if that something happened to be kicking us off of the Quidditch team," I answered smirking back at him.

Fred pondered the possibility for a moment before deciding it would probably be best if we chose the safe route for once.

"Fine," he said giving in, "but you owe me."

"Owe you what, exactly?" I asked as I fell into step with him descending the stairs.

Fred shrugged. "A favour. I'll know what it is when the time comes."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, whatever."

"Come on then," Fred encouraged. "Let's not waste our detention standing around idly."

Fred and I spent the next two hours planting Dungbombs in and around the Slytherin corridors—Dungbombs were one of Fred's favourite products. Occasionally a Slytherin would walk by and a bomb would go off. Fred and I almost gave ourselves up because of our laughter. The hardest part was keeping quiet when Snape walked by and got hit with the nauseating smell. He did a hilarious little pirouette-type move as he tried to figure out where the stench was coming from. I had tears in my eyes just from watching him flail about in confusion.

At that point we decided we had better return to the trophy room. Chances are, Snape would have suspected who the culprits were, and I knew the two of us were at the top of his list of trouble makers. If he were to go up to the trophy room and see we were not there we surely would be in for a world of trouble.

So, once Snape had finished his stinky dance, the two of us raced at top speed back up to the trophy room to beat Snape there. It's lucky we did, because he showed up five minutes later, looking severely angered and incredibly dishevelled. He didn't smell all too great either. Fortunately, because he didn't see us commit any crime, he was forced to leave us be without punishment.

The best part was that he knew it was us—it just made it all the more satisfying that we had gotten away with it.

Fred and I spent several minutes laughing and re-enacting Snape's reaction to the Dungbombs once he had angrily swooped away. We were having so much fun that it was nearly midnight before we decided to head back to the common room.

We exited the room happily after casting a cleaning spell to make the trophies sparkle and shine.

Unfortunately, I only made it a few steps before I slipped. I was just outside the door when I tripped over my own feet and stumbled down several stairs, landing awkwardly on my side. I squealed out in pain and shock as I hit the ground.

Fred, who had been walking several paces in front of me, turned around in surprise when he heard me yelp. Once he realized what had happened he broke into a wide grin.

"Smooth move," he said laughing, looking down on me cheekily.

"I think I broke something!" I cried, as I sat up, taking no notice of his mocking me.

My lower leg was throbbing in pain and I didn't want to chance trying to stand without assistance.

"Well that was smart," Fred said sarcastically as he hurried over to help me up.

"I didn't mean to," I protested angrily as I held onto his arms.

He pulled me up awkwardly in an attempt to get me on my feet.

"Can you walk?" he asked sounding concerned.

He lifted me off of the ground and held me in his arms. The pain was intensifying in my left leg and foot. I tried to put pressure on it and yelped in pain.

"I'll take that as a no," Fred said as tears began to form in my eyes.

He shook his head at me, smirk still present on his features.

"Come on, I'll take you to Madam Pomfrey," he said helping me onto his back.

I put my arms around his neck and held on tight as he began to head for the Hospital Wing. With each step down we took I whimpered in pain. I wish I could have stopped making pathetic noises, because it only gave Fred more ammunition to poke fun at me.

"Now honestly, what would you do without me?" Fred asked cheekily, placing me down carefully in front of the Hospital Wing doors. "I told you you're not able to handle yourself."

I huffed angrily, but didn't reply. I certainly didn't have a very good argument at the moment. If it weren't for Fred I would still be sitting at the bottom of the staircase wailing for help.

Madam Pomfrey, as if sensing our arrival, came running out of the Hospital Wing quickly. She asked no questions, but instructed Fred to help me through the doors.

Placing a strong arm around me, Fred helped me hobble through the doors and onto the nearest bed. Immediately Madam Pomfrey began fussing about.

She asked me what hurt, examined my leg, and then gave me a disgusting tasting potion to drink. She muttered a spell and pointed her wand at my foot, reducing the pain to a dull ache.

The entire time Fred stared at me with a highly amused expression on his face.

"How did this happen?" she asked me as she began to wrap a tight bandage around my ankle.

"Fell down a couple of stairs," I muttered feeling highly embarrassed.

I blushed deeply as Madam Pomfrey let out a sigh of _clumsy girl_. Fred laughed outright. I shot a glare at him and he silenced himself.

"Hmm," Pomfrey mused. I had a feeling she thought the two of us must have been up to no good for me to have fallen down the stairs. "Does that feel any better?"

"Kind of," I answered.

"You broke it," she said, "and it was an odd break, if it were a clean breakage I would've been able to fix it immediately. It will heal fine, but don't do too much running around for the next couple of days," she told me.

I made a face.

"I'm sorry but there's nothing more I can do," she said, "You'll just have to tone it down a notch." The look she gave me now was full of unspoken meaning.

I nodded reluctantly, feeling incredibly stupid. Why did I have to go and trip over my own damn feet? Curse my clumsiness.

"You'll have to help her back up to your tower," she said, directing this to Fred, "I presume that's not a problem?"

Fred let out a sound of disgust and screwed up his face in distaste.

"Good," Madam Pomfrey said as if it settled the matter.

With that, she hurried away once again—probably headed off to bed, judging by the slippers she wore on her feet.

Once she had gone I looked up at Fred, sticking out my bottom lip in a pout.

He rolled his eyes at me and let out a sigh.

"Well let's get moving then, Christie," he said reluctantly, taking hold of my arms and pulling me up. "You all right to walk?"

"I guess so," I replied as Fred put his arm around my waist.

The two of us made our way back up to Gryffindor tower slowly. My foot didn't hurt so much as felt awkward. Pomfrey's handiwork had successfully removed all pain. In fact, I couldn't feel my foot at all. The effect was a rather bizarre numbing sensation that made manoeuvring a difficult process. I sincerely hoped that by morning my limb would feel much more normal.

"Looks like I've proved you wrong," Fred said.

"How d'you figure?"

"I believe I recall you saying you didn't need my help—yesterday during Wood's speech," he pointed out.

"This is a fluke," I replied.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Jules."

When we had made it back into the common room, it was completely deserted—except for Wood. It was well past midnight and yet he was still seated in his regular spot in the far corner of the room, huddled over his miniature Quidditch pitch. He turned when he heard us come in.

"What happened?" he asked, standing up as soon as he realized I was hurt.

"Don't look so worried," I said, "I'll be better in time to play Quidditch in the Slytherin match."

"What, you think that's the only reason I would come to see if you were ok?" he asked me, sounding astonished. "It's not like I don't care if you're hurt."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I fell down a couple of stairs."

He smirked at my answer.

"Oh," he said, returning to his Quidditch pitch.

"What? That's all the sympathy I get?" I asked.

"All you did was fall down a couple of stairs," he answered, brushing it off, "You're fine."

I scoffed at him in disgust and Fred chuckled to himself.

"Oh sod off, both of you," I said angrily, attempting to hobble my way to the girls' staircase with as much dignity as I could muster.

"Need some help there, love?" Fred asked, viewing me with amusement.

I scowled at him. "Yes, please."

Fred bounded to my side and once again wrapped his arm around me as he helped me ascend the staircase.

"Oh, and Wood," he said, calling back down to Oliver, "You do realize it's nearly 1 AM."

"What?" I heard Oliver say, surprised. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

We heard him clamouring up the stairs moments later.

"Honestly, what do you girls see in him?" Fred asked, shaking his head at his captain's absurdity.

"What's wrong with him?" I questioned as the two of us continued to climb the staircase. I had my arm gripping Fred's waist to ensure I wouldn't tumble back down the way we came.

"Nothing if you like the tall, good-looking athletic type," Fred said bitterly.

"What's not to like?" I said grinning up at him.

Fred rolled his eyes at me as we reached the top of the stairs.

"Can you handle yourself from here?" he asked, leading me to my door.

"I think so," I said with a smirk.

"Good, because I can't be bothered to lug your heavy arse around any more tonight."

"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically.

"You'd better be all healed up tomorrow. I don't want you slowing me down all day long," he said.

"Does that mean you're volunteering to be my personal assistant should I need it?" I asked with a grin.

"You should be so lucky," Fred replied, turning to leave.

"Well thank you for your help," I told him, "Goodnight Fred."

"Night Jules," he replied, bouncing back down the stairs and out of sight.


	6. In Case of Emergency

**- CHAPTER SIX -**

_In Case of Emergency_

The following day was a Saturday and a Hogsmeade weekend to boot, much to nearly the entire student body's delight. I say nearly because I don't include myself in this group. Due to my idiocy the night previous I had no choice but to skip out on the trip to Hogsmeade. My awkwardness on my feet hadn't quite subsided, and I knew I wouldn't be able to walk all the way there without looking like a complete moron. After the escapade where Fred nearly had to carry me back to Gryffindor tower I wasn't in the mood to be further embarrassed.

So, due to my misfortune I was forced to sit in the common room for the majority of the day. Mercifully though, I wasn't alone. Fred had shockingly volunteered to stay behind so as not to leave me by myself. When I asked him why, he replied with a simple shrug, stating that he didn't have the money to spend in Hogsmeade this weekend. I didn't quite buy this story, but I wasn't going to argue with him if it meant I'd have some company throughout the day. Perhaps he was just being a good friend. There is a first for everything, after all.

Fred and I ended up having quite an enjoyable day together. He promised not to use me as a test subject for his inventions, and even brought me up to his dormitory so I could help him with a new prototype he and George were working on. In reality, this consisted less of me helping Fred and more of him attempting to explain how he comes up with the recipes for all of his strange creations.

"So, what's the plan once you and George have gotten all of your tricks up to par?" I asked, watching from Fred's bed as he stirred a cauldron full of bubbly purple goo on the floor below me.

"It's all very hush-hush, Juliet," he replied. "We're playing this very close to the chest."

"But I'm your best mate," I objected.

He cast a glance up at me and smirked.

"We're going to sell them," he said simply. "I thought that much was clear."

"Oh," I replied, a bit surprised. "I guess that makes sense. I always thought you two just enjoyed making them."

"Well we do," he said, turning his attention back to his cauldron, "but we'd enjoy it a lot more if we could make a few Galleons doing it as well."

I let out a surprised laugh.

"What's funny?" he asked.

"I just didn't realize you two actually had a true ambition," I admitted.

"I'm more than just rugged good looks, Juliet," Fred said, feigning offence.

I rolled my eyes at him and let out a laugh. "You certainly do think highly of yourself."

Fred chuckled, his eyes still on the bubbling cauldron. He bent low as if to smell the contents, and then stuck a finger into the mixture, removing a purple-covered index finger.

"Do me a favour," he said, holding his finger towards me. "Taste this."

"No way," I responded quickly.

"Oh, come on Jules. Just one little taste," he encouraged. He had an evil grin on his face that warned me not to trust him.

"I'm not stupid," I said.

"I beg to differ," he countered, getting up from his seat on the floor.

I hardly had time to squeal before he had tackled me on the mattress, waving his offensive purple finger in front of my face. He quickly pinned me down as I tried in vain to escape his firm grip.

"Fred!" I yelped through my growing laughter, "Gerroff me!"

Fred was laughing almost as much as me, and despite my flailing limbs managed to smear the purple goop all over the left side of my face. I screamed out in surprise, trying to fight my way out from underneath his weight.

"What is that?" I asked, horrified that I may be turning into chicken or lizard before his eyes. "Is it poisonous? Do I have feathers? What did you do to me?" I panicked as Fred broke down into a fit of giggles and I wrenched myself out of his grip, hobbling for the mirror in the boys' bathroom.

"It's nothing, Juliet!" he said with difficulty through his laughter. "I just wanted to see your reaction."

I monitored myself in the mirror and saw no feathers or anything else unusual occurring on my face. In fact, the purple goop had hardened and pealed right off my skin in one firm lump. Holding it in my hand, I noticed it regained some of its fluidity. I rolled it around in the palm of my hand.

"What _is_ this?" I asked again. My shock had worn off and was replaced by curiosity.

"It's a recipe George and I came up with," Fred answered, sitting up straight on his four-poster bed. "It doesn't have much of a function, but it takes the form of whatever you want it to be."

He reached his hand into the cauldron (which had now stopped bubbling) and pulled out another handful of the goopy substance. As soon as he removed it from the pot it changed shape entirely. It became a purple miniature of me.

"Whoa," I said, astonished. I looked down at the small ball in my hand and pictured a Snitch. The purple blob immediately transformed to match my imagination.

"We haven't figured out how to change the colour," Fred explained, "but we thought this would be a potential product for our line. Kind of a child's toy – a version of Muggle modelling clay."

"This is brilliant," I said, looking up at him with an expression of awe. "You're brilliant."

"You're too kind," he said, handing me the small model of me. As soon as it transferred into my hands it merged with the piece that was already in my palm and reformed to become Fred's face.

"It's a little touchy," he said, peering at the replica of himself in my palm. He met my gaze with a slightly teasing glint in his eye. "It changes to exactly what's on your mind while you're holding it."

I laughed a little uncomfortably. I suddenly wanted to put the clay down. The idea of someone seeing my thoughts was a little disturbing, and the fact that Fred's grinning face was what was on my mind was a bit embarrassing. Of course, it had to simply be because I had just spent a full day laughing with him.

"This would sell," I said honestly.

He grinned at me proudly.

"Keep that. When we've got a polished batch I'll give you the real thing," he told me, still staring at his face in my hand. I wished it would change. I tried to think of something else.

"Purple's not really your colour," I joked, tucking the ball of clay into my pocket.

Fred gave me a smirk as he tidied up his potions supplies.

"I'm feeling a bit peckish," he said. "Reckon it's almost dinner."

"Probably," I agreed. It wouldn't be long before the others would be making their way back from their busy day of shopping and eating sweets.

When Fred and I returned to the common room, we were met by Lee and George who triumphantly showed off a new Zonko's product they had discovered on their trip. Fred looked on in interest. I wasn't nearly as impressed after seeing the work Fred and George had done. I guess I had never really given the lads enough credit for their handiwork.

By the time dinner rolled around, my foot was feeling much more normal. I managed to make it down to the Great Hall for the feast with minimal difficulty, and hardly any teasing from the blokes.

"Were the Dementors still stationed at the entrances when you left for Hogsmeade?" I asked curiously as we all tucked in to the delicious meal in front of us.

Lee nodded, a look of disgust on his face. "They didn't come near us," he said, "but they were there."

"It's a wonder we're even allowed to go to Hogsmeade," Fred pointed out. "What with Sirius Black crawling around out there."

"I still don't think he'd come anywhere near the castle," George said. "He would have to be really thick to risk facing Dumbledore."

"Why didn't you come with us today?" Lee asked Fred, as though he had just thought of it now.

Fred shrugged and gave an explanation that was entirely different from the one he gave me earlier. "Couldn't leave Juliet here alone with a bum leg. What if there was an emergency?"

"Emergency," George scoffed as I looked at Fred in curiosity, mulling over what he had just said. "What kind of emergency would happen in the middle of the day under the supervision of the teachers?"

George's question was answered as we made our way back to Gryffindor tower. The four of us were chatting happily feeling very full after a satisfying meal. It was just as George and Lee were describing a particularly hilarious run-in they had had with a few Slytherins that we made it to the Fat Lady portrait. We were met by a bizarre scene. There was a huge crowd of Gryffindor students standing in the corridor, seemingly unable to get through to the common room.

"What's going on?" I asked, looking around. Fred and George, being the tallest of the four of us, tried to see over the heads of the students, but saw nothing.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's arrogant voice.

I turned around and saw him pushing himself importantly through the crowd.

"What's the hold up here? You can't all have forgotten the password—excuse me, I'm Head Boy."

An eerie silence went through the crowd as Percy reached the front of the crowd of confused students. I looked up at Fred and George's perplexed faces before hearing Percy's voice again.

"Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

Just as his name was spoken, Dumbledore showed up and started moving swiftly through the students. Looking forward again I saw what everyone was fussing about. The crowd had parted and I had a clear view of what was wrong: the Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait. Her canvas had been slashed and bits of it had been torn away.

"What happened?" I asked, staring at the empty canvas in fear and awe. Who would do something like this? Surely it wasn't a student…

Dumbledore took one look at the portrait, and then turned to Professor McGonagall, Professor Lupin, and Snape who had just arrived. "We need to find her," he said, "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!"

I turned my head once again, this time to see that it was Peeves the poltergeist. He spoke in his cackling voice, sounding just as mad as usual.

"What do you mean Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily.

There was a hush as Peeves' words settled in.

"Poor thing," the poltergeist added unconvincingly to end his description.

"Did she say who did it?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

"Oh, yes, Professorhead," said Peeves. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see. Nasty temper he's got that Sirius Black."

There was a great intake of breath at Peeve's last words and then a loud murmur of worried students whispering. I looked up at Fred, Lee, and George. They looked absolutely shocked, though so did the rest of the surrounding students.

"Quiet!" Dumbledore yelled over the talking. "I want everyone to return to the Great Hall. We will give you further instruction later," he said calmly.

"Come on," George said to me, taking a firm hold of my arm and tugging me along. "You're foot good? You can walk quickly, right?"

I nodded. It was a good thing I was feeling better, because clearly there was no time for foolish hobbling now. The crowd of students was making their way swiftly to the Great Hall, and we definitely didn't want to be left behind.

The Gryffindors had all begun to panic as they made their way back to the hall. George released his grip on me and everyone began bustling about, talking to each other in scared voices. Had Sirius Black really attacked the Fat Lady? How did he get into the castle? What about the Dementors? There was a loud chatter amongst everyone.

Ten minutes after arriving back at the Great Hall, the Gryffindors were joined by very confused Slytherins, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. Most of them were clad in their pajamas. Apparently they were already on their way to bed when they heard the news. I thought vaguely how bizarre it was for students to be heading directly to bed after dinner, but the thought was driven from my mind. Now was not to time to analyze the strange behaviour of students in other houses.

"Do you think he's still in here?" Fred asked looking at me with what was unmistakeably worry on his face.

"I don't know…" I replied.

"How did he get in?" Lee questioned.

This left me absolutely puzzled. Despite what I had said on the train about Black being stealthy enough to make it into the castle, there was no way I could think of that would allow him to pass over the threshold undetected. Dementors were guarding all of the entrances to the castle…and even if he snuck in through an unknown passage, he certainly wouldn't have been able to go wandering through the school unseen or heard.

Someone surely would have noticed him. And with Dumbledore around…

Why would Black dare enter the school that holds the one person the Dark Lord himself fears?

"Do either of you have the map?" I asked suddenly. If Sirius Black was still on school grounds we would be able to see him.

George shook his head. "Left it in the dormitory."

I scrunched up my face in disappointment, but said nothing more, as Dumbledore had entered and was beginning to speak.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," he announced as the other teachers slammed the Great Hall doors shut.

"I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbances should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Dumbledore was about to leave when he turned around and waved his wand causing the tables to fly to the edges of the Hall and stand themselves up. With another wave the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," he said exiting and closing the door behind him.

Everyone immediately began talking again. I exchanged worried glances with Fred, George and Lee.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy, "No more talking, lights out in ten minutes!"

The four of us pulled our sleeping bags over to one of the walls of the Hall near to where Katie and Alicia were already situated. I clamoured into my bag while Fred and George positioned themselves on either side of me.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks that Black is still in the castle," George whispered as the girls shifted their squashy sleeping bags so they could get in on the conversation.

"You don't think he's come after Harry do you?" Katie asked.

"I wouldn't think he would do that, but I don't see any other reason for him being here…" I answered slowly.

"How _do_ you think he got in here?" George asked.

"I dunno, I mean, you can't Apparate in Hogwarts grounds, and the castle is greatly protected, and now with the Dementors…" I said. The idea of him breaking in seemed impossible.

"The lights are going off now, I want no more talking and everyone in their sleeping bags!" yelled Percy as the lights went out.

The group of us grumbled, but lay down in our sleeping bags nonetheless, each of us with our heads on our pillows. We shifted in a way that our heads were in a circle, allowing us to hear each other talking without raising our voices enough to be heard by Percy.

"Do they actually expect us to go to sleep after that?" Alicia whispered.

"D'you think there's any chance the teachers will find him?" Katie asked.

"No idea," George replied.

"He's probably long gone by now," said Lee, "Don't imagine he'd be sticking around."

I fell silent, listening to the others as they continued to whisper amongst themselves. My thoughts wandered back to the first day of school when the Marauder's Map had showed Peter Pettigrew on the edge of the forest…Nothing made any sense.

"You ok?" Fred whispered. He had huddled in close to me and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. It made my hair stand on end and my pulse start to race. I wasn't sure if it was solely him causing it, or if my nerves were just shot after such a shocking event.

"I'm fine," I replied, although it was far from the truth.

Fred snaked one arm around me and my sleeping bag and gave me a squeeze. I thought vaguely of how surprisingly protected I felt with him holding on to me…but with thoughts of Sirius Black and the disturbing appearance of Pettigrew's name on the map lingering in my mind, I found it hard to concentrate on the warmth of his breathing on my neck and the proximity of our bodies.

Sleeping definitely proved to be an impossible task, as I remained awake for hours in Fred's arms. He and George had fallen asleep long ago—or at least I thought they did. They could have been faking it. However, Fred's arm gave a little jolt every once in a while as though he were dreaming. As I hadn't heard a word from the rest of the group either, I assumed they had all been claimed by their exhaustion.

Every hour a teacher would come in to check on the students and to make sure everyone was asleep and well, but it wasn't until around three in the morning that I heard any news of what was going on.

Dumbledore came into the Hall and walked up and down the aisles between the students talking to Percy. I listened intently, trying to pick up some information as they spoke.

I turned my head slightly and saw Harry a few feet away from me adjusting himself so that he too could hear what Dumbledore was saying.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" asked Percy in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady Sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."

Percy and Dumbledore stopped talking when Snape entered and asked to speak with Professor Dumbledore.

I couldn't hear what they were saying and I could no longer keep my eyes open. I strained to hear more, but sleep finally claimed me.


	7. Drowning

**- CHAPTER SEVEN -**

_Drowning_

The next morning I woke up to the early mutters of newly awake chattering students. I couldn't make out what anyone was saying, but I knew it would revolve around the events that unfolded the night before. As I opened my eyes my vision was fuzzy and my head was aching with exhaustion. I couldn't remember when I had even fallen asleep, and the floor hadn't made for a very comfortable night.

I reached up to rub the sleep out of my eyes and I tried sitting up, but couldn't. Turning my head I realized why. Fred was still holding me in his arms tightly. It appears he hadn't let go the entire night.

"Fred," I grumbled, giving him a shake, "Fred, Fred get off."

Unable to wake him I lay back down and stared up at the ceiling of the Great Hall. It was cloudy and dark outside and it looked like a pretty miserable day.

"Hey."

I looked over and saw George stretching his arms over his head with a great yawn.

"G'morning," I answered, yawning as well.

"You've got a Fred on you," George pointed out.

"Yeah I know. Could you give me a hand?" I asked.

George climbed out of his sleeping bag, carefully avoiding the rest of our friends who were just now beginning to rise themselves. He gave Fred a swift kick in the ribs and yanked him off of me just as he groaned in pain.

"Ugh. What?" Fred said rubbing his eyes sitting up, "what was that for?"

I snickered at him as he scratched at his eyes and turned my attention on the rest of the hall. Everywhere people were starting to whisper anxiously to each other, and I saw Percy readying himself to start herding the Gryffindor students back to the common room. I hoped we were going to get some answers about the circumstances soon.

Over the next few days, unsurprisingly, all anyone would talk about was Sirius Black. Theories were spreading throughout the school about how he could have gotten in; each more idiotic than the last. I myself didn't have a clue as to how he managed it.

In terms of Damage Control: the Fat Lady's portrait had been replaced by the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat grey pony. The Gryffindors were all extremely upset by the change, and with good reason. Sir Cadogan spent half of his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up extremely ridiculous passwords, which he changed quite a few times a day. Unfortunately for us, none of the other portraits wanted the job after what had happened to the Fat Lady.

The teachers were now spending much more of their free time patrolling the halls, which made it extremely difficult for trouble makers like Fred and George to get their full dose of mischief. Thus, they were quite often grumpy.

On top of all the other insanity, Oliver had the Quidditch team practicing like mad once again. To make matters worse, the weather was horrible and was becoming increasingly so, but Wood continued to push everyone to their limit.

It was during one of these horrible rainy-weathered practices that we received some bad news.

"We're not playing Slytherin! Flint's just been to see me, we're playing Hufflepuff instead." Wood announced to the entire team.

"Why?" I asked.

"Flint's excuse is their Seeker's arm is still injured."

Everyone scoffed in disbelief.

Rumour had it that Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Seeker and arrogant prick extraordinaire had falsely accused a hippogriff of biting him out of violence-apparently this was the cause of his injured arm and the reason why they could not compete.

"But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances…" Wood finished.

"There's nothing wrong with Malfoy's arm!" Harry said suddenly. He sounded furious. "He's faking it!"

"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Wood, "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory-"

He was cut off as Katie and Alicia giggled and then began whispering. The twins rolled their eyes at the pair, and then sent me a warning glance as if to tell me to keep my mouth shut. I laughed at them and turned back to Oliver.

"What is it?" said Wood, frowning at the two giggling girls, clearly confused about the outburst.

"Oh, it's just that he's gorgeous," I supplied for him, seeing his puzzled expression. Fred and George both frowned at me. I grinned widely at them as the two other girls continued.

"He's tall and good looking," Alicia said.

"Strong and silent," Katie added.

"He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together," said Fred impatiently.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" I asked Fred smiling.

Fred rolled his eyes and turned back to Wood. I swear I saw him blush a little.

On the day of the first match of the Quidditch season it was raining and cold outside. The whole school, as usual, had gathered in the stands to watch the two teams face off. The Gryffindor team sat in the in the change room for Oliver's pep talk. He stuttered and wasn't able to say anything, so just beckoned the rest of us to follow him onto the field and into the harsh, biting wind.

When Madam Hooch blew her whistle, both teams soared into the air. The rain was now coming down hard and it was difficult for me to see anything. I did manage to get a few points for Gryffindor, but for the most part it was a lost cause.

It was pure chaos as Katie, Alicia and I attempted to get a hold of the Quaffle. Even when we had managed to grab it we had no way of knowing who was in possession. It was too difficult to see past the pellets of rain striking us from all angles. This also brought out the issue of Bludgers. If we chasers could barely see the Quaffle, how were Fred and George supposed to see the Bludgers? At least the Quaffle is coloured red—the Bludgers were the same colour as the darkening sky.

So, the game progressed in confusion. I was continually afraid of being knocked off of my broom by a rogue Bludger, and it became increasingly difficult to avoid hitting other players on my way toward the goal.

The entire team desperately needed Harry to catch the Snitch. Lightning started to flash in the sky when I heard Madam Hooch's whistle sound again. Seeing that Wood had called a time out I zoomed back down to the ground.

The team huddled at the edge of the field under an umbrella. A few blankets were conjured up to keep us temporarily warm.

"What's the score?" Harry asked.

"We're up fifty points," Wood answered, "but unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night."

"I've got no chance with these on," Harry removed his glasses just as Hermione appeared through the storm.

"I have an idea Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!" she said, snatching Harry's glasses from him.

Hermione tapped them quickly with her wand, casting a spell that caused them to repel water. Just as quickly as she had come, she left again and Madam Hooch was telling everyone to mount their brooms. Wood looked immensely impressed and began to ask Harry if the spell had helped as he slipped his glasses back onto his face. Harry confirmed that he could indeed see better, which gave us all a glimmer of hope that this could be over soon.

"Are you alright?" Fred asked me. He was huddled under the same blanket as me, along with Alicia on his other side. His hair was completely drenched and he was squinting to see me through the rain.

"Yeah I'm fine," I answered, shivering from the cold. I actually felt quite horrible, but if there is one thing I hate to do, it's showing weakness in front of the twins. It's hard being best mates with guys; the macho factor sort of rubs off.

Oliver's time was up, and we were back in the air. Only minutes later, however, the team was back down again. Harry had fallen off of his broom. Dementors had found their way over to the pitch and caused him to faint, hurtling to the ground. I hadn't seen it happen, but the sight of him lying unconscious was frightening. He looked awful. We were assured he would be fine, and the entire team hurried up to the castle as Harry was brought to the hospital wing. The Dementors were ordered back to their posts by a positively furious-looking Dumbledore.

"You sure you're alright?" George asked me as we stood around Harry's bed. He was still unconscious.

"Yes I'm fine," I answered irritably, "Stop asking."

Fred put his arm around my shoulders and kissed my drenched forehead just as Harry opened his eyes.

"Harry!" Fred yelled, "How're you feeling?"

"What happened?" Harry asked sitting up.

"You fell off," Fred answered, "must have been, what, fifty feet?"

"We thought you'd died," Alicia said, she was still shaking from the cold.

"But the match, what happened? Are we having a replay?" Harry asked, causing everyone to fall silent.

No one wanted to be the bearer of bad news.

"We didn't lose did we?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"Diggory got the Snitch," George said, "just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a re-match. But they won fair and square…even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" asked Harry, glancing around the room in search for our captain.

"Still in the showers," George answered, "We think he's trying to drown himself."

There were a few snickers at that comment. Harry looked miserable as he was filled in on the details.

"You sure you're warm enough?" Fred muttered, eyeing my blue lips as I shivered next to him.

He removed a blanket from around his shoulders and wrapped it tightly around me.

"Fred I'm fine," I said, "I'm not a baby."

"I know you're not," he said with a small smile, "I'm just looking after you. Is that a crime?"

I gave him an unimpressed look, but said nothing. The fact that we had lost the match wasn't sitting with me too well, and my drenched clothing was making me more uncomfortable than I cared to let on.

"I don't want you freezing solid. You're too heavy for me to lug around the castle again," he joked, smirking at me.

I rolled my eyes at him and pulled the blankets tighter around my body just as Madam Pomfrey came in to usher us all out.

Giving a hurried goodbye to Harry, the rest of us headed out the door and into the freezing cold corridor—or at least it seemed freezing cold with my robes dripping wet.

We made our way slowly back up to Gryffindor Tower, stopping momentarily to convince Sir Cadogan we were uninterested in a duel.

There was a debate amongst us as to whether or not we should go down and fetch Oliver from the showers. It was agreed that Katie and Alicia would go and fetch him, as it probably wasn't safe to leave him down there alone in such a mad storm.

That left Fred, George, and I to slump up to our prospective dormitories to shower and change into dry clothes.

Once I had cleaned and dried myself to satisfaction, I pulled on warm clothing and descended to the common room once again. I was almost tempted to just go straight to bed, but with the Dementors around and the Sirius Black scare still in the back of my mind, I wanted to see for myself that Oliver and the girls came back safely.

Fred was sitting by the fire when I re-entered, looking just as put out as I felt.

"Today sucked," I said childishly as I slumped down on the couch next to him.

"I know it did," Fred replied, sinking low into the cushions.

"Do you think we still have a chance at the Cup?" I asked hopefully.

"A slim one," Fred answered dully.

"You've got that right."

I turned around to see Oliver dripping wet and looking miserable as he sulkily made his way past us. Alicia and Katie both hurried up to our dormitory to change, seen as how their duty had now been fulfilled.

"But it's still a chance," Fred told him optimistically.

"I guess," he said, sounding doubtful.

"You gunna be ok?" I asked him.

He looked at me and shrugged before slumping up to his dormitory.

"How very uncharacteristic of him," I said with a frown when he had disappeared.

"He's needs to get himself a girl," Fred replied. "That game was rubbish, but he's more upset than he should be."

I smirked.

"You don't have a girl," I pointed out.

"I do so," Fred said, sitting up straight.

"Oh ya? And who is that?" I asked him.

"You."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Says who?"

"I did," he answered simply.

"Oh really?" I said sarcastically. "What makes me _your_ girl, exactly?"

"You just are."

"What about George?" I questioned.

"What about him?"

"Maybe I prefer him. Maybe I'd rather be _George's_ girl."

"Why on earth would you want that?" Fred looked disgusted.

"Why on earth would I want _you_?"

Fred pretended to be offended, and I took a swipe at him. He dodged me easily and pinched my cheek. I shook him off irritably.

"I was just having some fun Jules, don't get so worked up."

"Me? Please," I said. "You don't have that kind of power over me."

"That's true," Fred agreed with a cheeky grin on his face. "You can't make someone love you for real, so you must have come across your feelings for me on your own."

"Smart ass," I muttered, getting up and smacking him in the back of the head in the process.

Fred watched me climb the stairs, laughing to himself.

"Love you Jules!" he called after me.

I ignored him at first, but grumbled back at him before I stepped into my dormitory.

"Love you too, Fred."

**A/N:** Hey everyone! Thanks for all of the reviews so far…and if you haven't sent me one yet I'd really appreciate it if you did so you can let me know what you think of the story so far! Thanks for the support.


	8. Boys

**- CHAPTER EIGHT -**

_Boys_

Harry was kept in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the weekend, but was sure to make a full recovery. Aside from scaring the wits out of him, the Dementors hadn't done any real damage. The actual fall off his broom was the real cause for worry, but it wouldn't be long before he'd be back up and running again.

With the growing number of faculty members constantly patrolling the halls, it was a shock that the twins and I managed to keep ourselves out of trouble. Indeed, even though the talk of Sirius Black had died down substantially, Dumbledore was not about to let his guard down. It was apparent that all of the professors were still tense, and were bound to be until Black was returned to Azkaban.

On Monday we returned to classes only to find that instead of Professor Lupin as our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we had Professor Snape. Everyone was clearly dismayed about the switch. Fred saw it fit to blatantly ask Snape what in Merlin's name he was doing in our classroom. Due to his remark Snape had deducted five points from Gryffindor and refused to enlighten us about the whereabouts of Lupin.

Instead he assigned us an essay about werewolves. He didn't seem to care that Professor Lupin hadn't even touched on the topic of werewolves (George lost another five points for pointing out the matter). In fact, within two days it came to our attention that he had assigned the same project to every class no matter what age group.

"Who the hell does Snape think he is assigning us something when he's not even our teacher?" George complained as the two of us walked to the Great Hall for dinner. He had been complaining about Snape all afternoon, and it was beginning to grate on my nerves. I'm not sure what had gotten me into such a huff lately, but I was the first to admit I had been a right crabby mood since the Quidditch match.

"I dunno George," I answered boredly.

"And he thinks he deserves the Defence job," he said with a huff, "Fat chance that'll happen if he assigns a pointless essay to every student in the bloody school."

"Yep," I replied unenthusiastically, picking a bit of string off of my robes.

"Are you ok?" he asked, looking at me with concern.

"I'm fine," I said a little harshly.

George's eyebrows rose toward his hairline.

"Alright, what's up?" he said with a sigh.

"Nah, no – it's nothing," I said, feeling stupid. "I'm just in a right stink after losing that Quidditch match against Hufflepuff."

George shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it now."

"I know," I said. "Let's just not talk about it."

"Okay," George agreed. "So, what's up with you and Fred?"

I shot him a confused look. "What?"

George looked at my puzzled face for a minute, deliberating.

"Never mind," he said quickly.

"No, come on George what did you mean?" I asked, confusion clear in my tone. We had made it to the Great Hall and were headed towards Fred and Lee who were already seated and waving us over.

"We'll talk later," George replied in a hushed voice as we sat down. Apparently it was not to be discussed in front of the others.

"Hey, what's up?" Fred asked as the two of us joined them.

"Just talking about Snape, the great bloody prune," George said, launching into his complaints again. "Can you believe he assigned us that paper?"

"Will you stop bringing that up?" I grumbled, my irritation returning.

"Someone's in a mood," Fred commented.

Lee snickered but said nothing.

"I was just pointing out that-"

"George if you say _Snape _one more time you'll be wearing your food as a hat," I warned him. "I don't feel like hearing it today."

"Is something wrong?" Fred asked, turning to me with sincere concern on his face.

I shook my head.

"George is just infuriating as hell today," I replied.

"Well you're particularly irritable today," George commented. "I think it's more than the Quidditch game that's got you fussed. Are you er-having any _feminine_ problems that are causing you problems?"

"Oh, shut it, George," I snapped as he grinned cheekily.

"Alright, alright, I was just asking," he said.

"Well don't ask," I said childishly.

"I won't next time," he said.

"Good."

"Good."

Fred and Lee chuckled as George and I looked away from each other.

"You two act like three-year-olds with a crush," Lee said laughing.

At this Fred's laughter ceased and a slight frown formed on his lips.

I, however, cracked a smile at Lee's comment and let out a laugh despite myself. George followed suit.

"Aww I love you Julie-bug, let's never fight again," George said to me, kissing my cheek sloppily.

I rolled my eyes at him but grinned.

"You're a moron," I said.

"But you're not mad at me anymore are you?"

I shook my head good-naturedly and George gave Lee and Fred a triumphant look.

Fred looked down at his soup and didn't make eye contact with any of us for the remainder of dinner.

* * *

It was near the end of term and much to the students delight there was another Hogsmeade trip scheduled on the last week before the Christmas holidays. I planned on going, especially after missing the last one. Fred and George would be joining me as usual. They had run off early to talk to Harry about something first and promised to meet up with me later.

Currently twin-less, I walked to Hogsmeade with Katie and Alicia. The three of us had spent a lot of time together over the years, having shared a dormitory since we first began school at Hogwarts. On the way to Hogsmeade the three of us passed the time talking about something I would never be able to touch on while around the twins. The subject of our conversation? Boys.

"I still think Oliver is cuter than Diggory," Katie said. She and Alicia had started up an argument about who was the most attractive bloke in the school.

"That's only because you fancy him," Alicia said rolling her eyes.

"I do _not_," Katie said.

"You do so," Alicia said, "You're completely infatuated."

"I can't imagine how you'll get along next year when he's gone," I added with a smile. It was a well-known fact that Katie had fancied Oliver since her first year. I suppose I couldn't really blame her. Although he was somewhat of a Quidditch nutter, Wood was awfully good-looking.

"Well what about you? You've fancied George since I can remember," Katie said turning to Alicia.

"Really?" I asked mischievously. "I had no idea!"

"Katie, shut up," Alicia hissed angrily.

"What? You don't want me to know?" I asked. "I'm George's best friend…that could work in your favour."

She glared at me.

I laughed, "Seriously I could talk to him for you…put in a good word."

"No, don't!" Alicia yelled.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because, just don't."

"Don't what?"

The three of us turned around to see the Weasley twins grinning from behind us.

"Nothing," said Alicia, quickly blushing a bright shade of red.

"Keeping secrets are we?" Fred asked cheekily.

"Just Alicia," Katie said quietly.

"Leesh?" George asked, hearing Katie's comment.

Alicia sent Katie an angry look.

"Katie has a crush on you George," she said quickly, before Katie could beat her to the punch.

George smirked.

"Well who can blame her, really?" George said. "But I always thought Kates fancied Wood."

Katie glared at him as the rest of us laughed.

"Why don't you two scram?" I said to the twins, "I'll meet up with you later."

"We'll leave you girls to your girl-talk then," George agreed, winking at me.

Fred gave me a half-smile and then followed his brother away from the three of us.

I waved as they left, then turned back to the girls. Katie hit Alicia's arm.

"What was that for?" Katie asked, referring to Alicia's lie. "And how does _he_ know I fancy Oliver?"

"Do you think he heard? Do you think he knows I like him?" Alicia asked turning to me, ignoring Katie.

"I don't know, I'll ask," I said opening my mouth to call George back.

"No you will not!" Alicia said grabbing my arm violently.

"I was kidding," I said, rubbing my arm where Alicia had gripped it. "I'll just ask him later."

Alicia gave me an evil look as Katie and I laughed.

"Please don't tell him," Alicia said seriously.

"Leesh, come on, I wouldn't say anything unless you wanted me to," I said honestly.

Satisfied that nothing was going to be said to the boys, the conversation eased back to teasing Katie about Oliver.

Once we had reached Hogsmeade the three of us wandered from store to store intent on buying Christmas gifts. The holidays were fast approaching, and in the spirit of the season it was imperative we buy things for everyone who was even remotely a friend. We had great fun picking out silly gifts. None of us really had much pocket money to spend, so bargains always caught our eyes.

After a few hours of shopping I met up with the twins at Zonko's joke shop- where else would they be?

"Hello girls. You know, I forgot to mention how very lovely you all are looking today," George said, grinning cheekily as Alicia, Katie and I entered the shop.

I shook my head at him, "What are you up to?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," he answered cheekily. "Can't a bloke tell his mates how ravishing they look without being scrutinized?"

"You here to stay with us now?" Fred asked as I rolled my eyes at George's antics.

I let out a sigh, "Oh, I suppose," I said glancing around the shop.

"Well if it's too much of a bother to hang around with us, you can leave," George said as Lee entered. George spotted him and sped off to greet him.

"Well, Alicia and I are going to head back now, you coming Juliet?" Katie asked.

"Nah, I think I'll stick around for a bit," I told her.

"Alright," she replied as she and Alicia turned to leave, "See you lot later then."

"Bye," Fred and I chorused.

The two girls waved and exited the shop, Katie pulling a reluctant Alicia away. Apparently she had been set on spending some time with George…silly girl. Silly _me_ rather. How could I possibly not have known she had a thing for George?

"How did shopping go?" Fred asked, catching my attention back again.

"Very well," I said, holding up the many bags and parcels in my arms.

"Need some help?" he asked.

"Nope," I replied, setting my bags down. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wand. With a simple flick the bags were gone. I knew they'd be waiting for me again when we reached the castle.

Fred smirked as George and Lee emerged from behind an aisle of joke products.

"Well I see you're still with us," George said. "Thought you might go back with the girls."

"It was a tough call. But you guys are girl enough for me, thanks," I answered, grinning.

"Alright then where to next?" Lee asked, ignoring my comment and clapping his hands together enthusiastically.

Honeydukes was our final stop of the afternoon before the four of us headed back up to the castle. Full of butterbeer and chocolate, we were set to face the walk back to the castle. It had begun to snow and it was quite cold outside. Huge flakes fluttered down and littered everyone's hair and clothing. The sprinkling of white looked quite lovely as it began to coat the ground around us. I found I was excited for winter to fully arrive, even if it meant spending a lot more time feeling chilled.

About halfway back to Hogwarts I felt Fred's eyes on me. I turned to look at him and he smiled crookedly. I grinned back, hesitating a bit at the look in his eyes.

"You've got snow in your hair," he said, reaching out and twisting the ends of my long strands in his fingers.

"So do you," I pointed out, and he shook his head to loosen the flakes.

I laughed, and Fred grinned and slipped his arm around my waist. George and Lee chose that moment to look back at us. Lee smirked and turned away, and I swear I saw George roll his eyes. I gave him a questioning look, but it was lost as he had turned his attention back to Lee.

The walk back to Hogwarts passed pleasantly, the four of us chatting about Christmas holidays and Quidditch. Once we had made it back up to the school I headed up to my dormitory to conjure my packages and set them safely under my bed. It wouldn't do well for me to forget about them.

Neither of the girls were around, but all of their bags had been placed on their beds. Vaguely wondering where they were I headed back downstairs.

When I re-entered the common room I found George was the only one still there.

"Where did Fred and Lee go?" I asked.

"Down to the kitchens," he answered with a yawn.

"And you didn't accompany them?"

George smiled at my surprise.

"Nope. Wasn't hungry."

"Shocking," I muttered. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied.

He cracked his knuckles and sat up in his seat as if preparing himself for the upcoming conversation.

I sat down on the coffee table opposite George and peered at him. He seemed to be acting quite odd lately.

George smoothed the front of his clothing and leaned forward. He folded his hands into his lap and looked at me expectantly.

I quirked my eyebrow at him, but did not comment on his sudden interest in posture.

"What did you mean the other day when you asked what was up between—"

"You and Fred?" he finished, cutting me off.

"Yeah," I confirmed.

"Oh, nothing," he said, refusing to meet my gaze.

"No, seriously George," I said, moving to sit down next to him.

"No really, it was nothing. I shouldn't have said anything," he answered.

He leaned back against the arm of the couch—perfect posture forgotten—and put his feet up on the coffee table.

I gave him a suspicious look

"George…"

He grinned at me.

"You're a smart girl; you should be able to figure it out."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Just tell me."

He let out a disappointed sigh.

"It really would be more rewarding for you to find out on your own."

"George…"

He observed me carefully a moment, a cheeky smile on his face. He looked like he was debating which route would be most entertaining. He must have decided he'd enjoy seeing my reaction, because he shrugged and said, "my powers of observation have led me to notice a few…changes in behaviour in Fred…towards you," he answered.

I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Like what, George?"

"You know…just stuff."

"Like _what_ stuff?"

He rolled his eyes at me.

"You are so daft," he said.

I stared at him blankly.

"He likes you," George said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I laughed.

"That's ridiculous."

"Afraid not my dear. I'm being completely truthful," George replied.

"He can't possibly like me," I said shaking my head, although I felt a bit unsettled.

"Fine, don't listen to me. I'm only his twin brother, what do I know?"

"There's nothing different between the way Fred acts around me and the way _you_ act around me."

"Jules, did you not see the expression on his face when I kissed you at dinner the other day?"

"Hmm interesting point, which raises a much bigger question; why _did_ you kiss me, George?" I asked. "Maybe it's _you_ who likes me, not Fred."

George shrugged.

"Maybe you're right," he said.

"I better not be," I replied.

"Why not?"

"Because I know a certain someone who would be devastated if she knew you fancied me," I said casually referring to Alicia.

"Well then I guess it's a good thing I don't like you…sorry to break your heart, Jules," he joked.

I placed my hand over my heart.

"Oh, the pain of rejection."

"Again, terribly sorry, but I do know a certain twin of mine—who shall remain nameless—who would be more than happy to comfort you during your time of need."

"You're a git, George."

"But I'm an honest git."


	9. Changes

**- CHAPTER NINE -**

_Changes_

The next day snow was still falling heavily outside. The school was alight with excitement because of the end of term. In celebration of the holidays, Fred and George set off Dungbombs in the corridors, prompting everyone to rush to get themselves packed and out of the castle as quickly as possible. No one wanted to start off the holiday season by watching Filch's reaction to the stench.

My Christmas holidays were going to be spent at the Burrow with the Weasleys. It was rare that students stayed at the castle over the holidays, but there were always a few who did. This year Harry, Ron and Hermione had opted to stay at the castle. Aside from the three of them, Gryffindor would be empty. It had already been decided that my parents would be joining the Weasley clan for Christmas dinner. My parents always got on well with the Weasleys, and have been friendly for almost as long as Fred, George and I. Dad works as a Mediwizard at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and is one of two on-call field Mediwizards working for the Ministry of Magic. He met Mr. Weasley on a call where three Ministry members were severely injured by a particularly angry set of Muggle armchairs. The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office had a tough job with that one, and Dad had to set Mr. Weasley and his co-workers right before they captured the attention of possible on-lookers within the Muggle community. My dad always spoke fondly of Mr. Weasley after that event. Apparently he held himself together very admirably in the face of rogue cushions.

Looking forward to some time away from the pressures of our studies, I bade goodbye to Ron, Harry and Hermione before setting off with the rest of the jabbering students for Hogsmeade station. The winter air was biting, and I was happy to arrive in front of the Hogwarts Express before my fingers went numb. Lee had caught an earlier carriage off of Hogwarts grounds and had promised to save Fred, George and I a compartment on the train.

"Come on now, Juliet," George was grumbling at me as I fumbled with my trunk and tripped on my way to the scarlet steam engine. "You're bloody slow."

"Oh calm down George," I hissed back, annoyed with my lack of coordination. "The train won't leave for another six minutes."

Students from Hogwarts were flooding Hogsmeade station in a rush of giddy anticipation. We were amongst the last to board, and had to squeeze our way through to the last compartment of the train where Lee was waiting.

"What took you lot so long?" Lee asked, sliding over to give George space to flop down next to him.

"This one," George said, indicating me with a nod of his head.

"Yes, I know," I said, "bloody slow."

Fred tucked the three trunks away and the two of us took a seat across from George and Lee.

"Blimey," Fred huffed, "I'm not sad to be leaving the castle this year. It's a relief to be away from those Dementors."

"Agreed," Lee said. "I don't see why your brother and his friends are staying behind."

"Especially Harry," George said. "Remember what those things did to him? I'd be running as soon as I got the chance."

"It is strange that they're not joining us," I mused. "I wonder why that is?"

George shrugged. "Reckon they'll want to give the Marauder's Map a true test-drive."

"The Marauder's Map?" I asked. "How would they know about that?"

Fred shrugged. "We gave it to Harry."

"What?" I asked. The surprise in my voice was evident. "Why?"

"Why not?" George said. "We don't really need it anymore."

"But what about Black?" I questioned. "I thought maybe if we kept an eye on it we could see him if he came back."

"Planning on sacking him single-handedly, are you Juliet?" Lee asked with an amused expression on his face.

"No," I said, distractedly. "I just thought…"

I had to admit, the idea of catching Black had surfaced in my mind, but what I had found really intriguing was the fact that the name _Peter Pettigrew_ had showed up at the start of term. I was more interested in looking out for him than trying to scout the territory for Sirius Black.

"Well who better to catch Sirius Black than Harry Potter anyway?" George cut in. "If Black's out to get him, he may as well be prepared."

"Black never showed up on the Map before," Fred cut in.

"That we saw," I said. "We could have missed him."

"He's probably using Dark Magic that prevents that sort of trace," Fred reasoned. "I bet he's more powerful than the writers of that Map, unfortunately."

"Yeah," Lee agreed. "Anyway, Harry'll have more use for it than you lot do. You've already memorized the entire castle."

"Yeah," I muttered, "I suppose you're right."

"Of course we are," Fred stated.

"Plus, it wouldn't really be right if we didn't pass on our knowledge to someone worthy," George reasoned.

"I bet Ron was miffed when he found out," Fred said. "I bet he reckons we should've passed it on to him."

"Why didn't you?" I asked.

"Ron? Please," Fred said airily. "Like Ron could really handle that kind of power."

"He'd get it confiscated first time he used it," George agreed. "He hasn't got the discipline to control himself."

I smirked at him, but said nothing. There was some logic in what the twins were saying. Fred and George were able to get away with the trouble they caused because they were well disciplined on the subject. Everyone mistook the Weasley twins for maniacal havoc-wreakers, but there certainly was a method to their madness. No ordinary witch or wizard could pull off the stunts that those two were so good at creating.

The ride to the train station passed quickly. The train came to a halt at platform nine and three quarters, and the Weasley family was waiting for us upon our arrival. We filed off of the train with the rest of the rushing students, and gave a quick goodbye to Lee.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing with their youngest and only daughter Ginny. As soon as we were within arms-reach of them, Mrs. Weasley pulled each of the twins into a hug and immediately started badgering them about school.

"I do hope you've managed to stay out of trouble since the last time we heard from you," she was saying sternly.

"Now Molly, give them time to say hello before you start on them," Mr. Weasley said good-naturedly.

Mrs. Weasley looked like she was going to object, but she seemed to think better of it for now.

"Juliet, dear," she said with a warm smile. "We're so pleased you could join us."

"Thanks for the invite," I said. "I hope I won't be intruding."

"No dear its fine, the more the merrier," she said.

"Well let's get a move on shall we?" said Fred, clapping his hands together as George loaded the trunks into the Ministry car Mr. Weasley had borrowed (the Weasley's family vehicle hadn't been seen since Harry and Ron had crashed it into the Whomping Willow the previous year).

"Percy hasn't arrived yet—ah here he is now," Mrs. Weasley said as Percy came into view.

"We were so close," George muttered. Mrs. Weasley missed the remark, as Percy was greeting her as though she were an old friend rather than his mother.

The seven of us piled ourselves into the car—me between Fred and George—and set off immediately for the Burrow. The ride consisted mainly of a thorough re-telling of the night Sirius Black entered the castle. Percy made certain to explain just how invaluable he was to Dumbledore in those frightening moments. "If it weren't for me, mother, there's no telling how many students could have been harmed that night."

"Oh _yeah_," Fred said with extreme sarcasm. "I reckon none of us would have made it out alive if Percy hadn't been standing guard by the Great Hall door."

"Yeah Perce," George said. "The way you shushed everyone up before bedtime was real heroic."

Percy gave his brothers a rather foul look while Ginny and I tried hard not to laugh under Mrs. Weasley's heavy stare.

When we reached the Burrow Fred and George were sent to put away our school trunks. Inside the kitchen sat Bill and Charlie, both drinking a cup of tea.

"Bill!" Ginny greeted enthusiastically, "Charlie!"

Ginny, as the only girl in a family of seven children, was both severely picked on as well as fiercely protected. Bill and Charlie were scarcely seen around the Burrow, and it was quite clear that they missed being around their baby sister.

"How are you, Juliet?" Bill asked with a wide grin. He was first to come and hug me after Ginny had released him.

The two eldest Weasley brothers were my favourite of Fred and George's siblings. Being an only child, I always looked up to Bill and Charlie as brothers. They seemed to accept this role and had treated me as a sort of adopted sister almost as soon as I had befriended the twins. This of course included relentless teasing, and unparalleled cruelty at times, but I loved them all the more for it.

Just as I had begun catching up with Bill and Charlie I heard a loud thump upstairs followed by a yell from Mrs. Weasley. There wasn't any mystery as to who was causing a disturbance so soon after our arrival.

"Those two," Charlie said with a shake of his head. "I wonder what they've done now."

"I'll go take a look," I said, excusing myself.

"I'm not sure that will do any good," Bill said with a laugh. "You'll probably only make things worse."

I shook my head good-naturedly and hurried up the creaky staircase to Fred and George's bedroom. I could hear Mrs. Weasley's irritated yells getting louder as I got closer, and almost changed my mind. Despite her kind face and even kinder heart, Molly Weasley was a force to be reckoned with.

"You've been here ten minutes and you've already managed to make a mess!"

"Mum, it wasn't our fault—"

"I don't want to hear excuses, Fred, just clean this up now!"

Cautiously I entered the room just as Mrs. Weasley was exiting. She didn't even seem to notice me as she walked by muttering something under her breath. I slipped into the bedroom and was met by Fred and George's sour faces.

"What happened?" I asked, although the question wasn't really necessary. The floor of the bedroom was covered in a thick purple goo that seemed to be hardening right before my eyes. It didn't take long for me to recognize what the substance was.

"It's another batch of that modeling clay," Fred explained. "We didn't do this one properly."

"We were unloading it from our trunks and something set it off," George said with a frown. "Reckon we weren't precise enough with our measurements."

"Yeah," Fred agreed, "and it didn't work, either. We've been trying to get the colours to change based on the formation the clay takes, but it still comes out purple."

"Oh," I said, crinkling up my nose. It smelled a bit like burning rubber in the room. "How are you going to clean it up?"

"Shouldn't be a problem, really," George said. "Once it hardens we should be able to peal it right off. No harm done."

"Mum just overreacts," Fred agreed.

"It doesn't look the same as the stuff you gave me," I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the small ball of purple clay. It indeed had more fluidity than the stuff coating the floor.

"Yeah, we've been trying to find the variable that will help us change the colour properly," George said, taking the ball from me and studying it as it changed immediately into the shape of a bubbling cauldron. "We'll give it another shot."

The mess that the twins had made was indeed easy to clear up as soon as the stuff had hardened. I watched as George rolled it all up and stuck it back into his cauldron.

"We'll re-use it and see if we can't salvage what's left," Fred explained.

"Might as well give it a shot now," George said. "Mum's mad at us anyhow."

The two of them set to work immediately coming up with a new ratio that might allow them to fix their creation. I took a seat on Fred's bed and watched in curiosity as they hunched over George's now bubbling cauldron. I hadn't the faintest idea how they knew what to add to make it work, but they seemed to be making progress. I was a fair student when I set my mind to it, but potions was something I always struggled with. It was amazing to me that Fred and George could have such a knack for it. They didn't even have to pay attention to Snape in class (which is a good thing, because Snape threw them out of class so often that I couldn't remember a time they'd ever sat through a whole lesson) and yet they had top marks. I wished I had that sort of talent.

The potion was brewing quietly when Mrs. Weasley called us down for dinner. Fred stirred counter-clockwise six times, then clockwise twice before announcing it complete. I noticed that this batch was not the same colour as the ball of clay I had. This one was an off-white shade that looked promising.

"We'll check back in a few hours," George said in a satisfied voice as the three of us made our way into the kitchen.

The others were already seated around the rectangular table that took up most of the room. There was an empty seat next to Percy, which I hurried to avoid. George sat down next to me quickly, leaving Fred to claim his spot across from us next to his prat of an older brother. The food was already on the table, and no one wasted any time in piling their plates high with Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking.

"As I was saying," Percy said, looking at his father. "Dumbledore told me himself that he was impressed with the initiative I have been taking around the school."

"That's very good, son," Mr. Weasley said politely.

"I can't make judgements from before I was a student, but I'd go so far as to say I'm the best Head Boy to have reigned since I started at Hogwarts."

"Reigned?" I said with a scathing look at George. "Who does he think he is?"

"Watch this," George whispered to me.

He picked up his spoon and filled it with several green peas from his plate. Taking aim, he launched a well-placed attack on Percy. I laughed as one hit him right in between the eyes.

"George! Where are your manners?" Mrs. Weasley yelled. Aside from her and Percy, everyone at the table was laughing.

"I was doing everyone a favour," George said as Percy rubbed his head in agony.

"Keep your peas on your plate son," Mr. Weasley said sternly, trying to regain his composure. Mrs. Weasley was glaring at him as he failed to suppress another laugh.

"Yes sir," George saluted.

Percy groaned.

"Oh for heaven's sake Percy it was only a pea!" Mrs. Weasley said, causing everyone to break into laughter once again.

Percy looked entirely un-amused.

After dinner everyone was instructed to go straight to bed. I headed up to Ginny's bedroom to change into my things. I had just pulled on my pyjamas when I realized my wand was missing. I had left it in Fred and George's bedroom. It wasn't a big deal to leave it, but I was so used to having my wand with me everywhere I went that I felt uncomfortable when it wasn't within reach. Passing Ginny on my way out, I hurried down the hall and up the stairs to Fred and George's room.

The door was open a few inches when I reached it, and there was still light inside from lanterns next to Fred and George's beds. I peered inside, but only Fred was there, his back turned away from me. I don't think he saw me, because if he did he surely would have been embarrassed at what I saw next.

Fred was stooped over the cauldron we had left before dinner. It looked like they twins had been successful in creating a batch that showed realistic colours, because the ball that Fred was holding was colourless as he pulled it out of the cauldron.

I don't know what possessed me to stand quietly by the door, peering through into the dim light, but I didn't announce myself. The ball of clay in Fred's hand at first remained fluid and viscous, but soon after it took another shape—one quite shocking. Despite the fact that the room was only lit by a few lanterns, there was no mistaking what the object in Fred's hand had formed into.

Fred was peering down at a replica of me. I knew immediately the new recipe had worked, as the colours of the clothes I had been wearing that day were reflected accurately in the miniature in Fred's hand. The dark auburn shade of the model's hair was the exact same as mine. It was remarkable how accurate it could be. What made me uneasy was that I knew it was Fred's memory of me that was so precise.

I was thrown off most when the small model changed yet again. This time, there were two figures in Fred's palm. I was still there, but so was a miniature Fred—and we were _snogging_.

"Bloody hell," I whispered to myself, feeling shock fill my stomach.

My eyes were wide in a mixture of surprise and horror, and I immediately backed away from the doorway. The last thing I wanted was for Fred to turn around and see me standing there.

Tripping over my own feet, I hurried back down the hallway. I rushed down the stairs, finding sanctuary in Ginny's bedroom. The shock in my eyes must have still been evident, because Ginny looked up from her bed with a questioning look.

"Juliet, are you alright?" she asked, eyeing me curiously.

I shook the image I had just seen out of my head and tried to appear calm.

"Yeah," I answered, "I'm fine."

Without waiting for her to question me further, I climbed into the small cot Mr. Weasley had set up for me and turned away from her.

"Goodnight Ginny," I said, turning off the lantern on the bedside table.

With my brain on overdrive, I forced myself to sleep.


	10. Sick to My Stomach

**- CHAPTER TEN -**

_Sick to My Stomach_

Christmas Eve greeted me the next day with a strange, sinking feeling in my stomach. It took me a few minutes to place it before I remembered what I had seen the night before. I was in no position to enjoy the excitement of the pre-Christmas jitters. Instead I was fixated on Fred.

I made a point of avoiding the twins for the entire morning. I skipped out on breakfast, making me irritable, and stuck to Ginny's room wrapping presents. I didn't want to go downstairs and have to look Fred in the eye. I would feel nauseated and guilty. I wasn't supposed to see what I saw the night before. Fred was obviously keeping something from me, and I was entirely unwilling to explore what exactly was going on there. The thought terrified me.

I busied myself, pretending not to hear the happy chatter of a well-fed family downstairs. I needed to get my head cleared before I faced anyone. I wasn't sure what to do. Should I act like nothing happened, or should I confront Fred? The twins and I tended to have an open-door policy when it came to anything that was on our minds, but the one outstanding exception to that rule was romance. It was an unspoken agreement that I wouldn't talk to the blokes about anything boy-related, and the same was true for them. They never approached me with anything to do with relationships, and that was just how I liked it. If Fred actually was harbouring secret feelings for me, that crossed a serious line.

I was deep in thought, lost in my own worries, when the twins walked in. I looked up, startled, and blanched immediately at the sight of Fred. I averted my eyes as quickly as I could, and tried to sound normal as I greeted them.

"Good morning," I said, looking down at my hands as I fumbled with the wrapping of Ginny's gift. My voice sounded a tad too high, but I hoped neither Fred nor George would notice.

"Good morning," George said, and I could feel both his and Fred's eyes scrutinizing me from above where I sat on the floor.

"You didn't come down for breakfast," Fred said. It sounded like a question.

"Wasn't hungry," I replied, trying hard to sound casual.

Neither of them replied to that, but I felt certain their silence was filled with unexpressed doubt.

"Mum left you a plate," George said. "She thought maybe you were still asleep."

"I'm just doing some last-minute wrapping," I told them, although that much was fairly obvious.

"Right," Fred said. "Well are you busy now? We kind of wanted to show you something."

"Well, technically I am busy," I replied, still not looking up at either of them.

"You can finish that later," George told me impatiently. "This will only take a minute."

"We want to show you the new _Perception Putty_," Fred said enthusiastically.

"_Perception Putty_?" I asked, looking up at him against my better judgement. It was hard to make eye-contact after last night. Even though nothing had actually happened between us, it certainly felt like things had changed—at least for me.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"It's the name we came up with for that clay," George explained. "It takes the shape of whatever you're thinking of, and uses your memory to make a replica."

"So it all changes based on your perception," Fred said with a grin. "We thought it was clever."

I nodded in agreement, trying to look impressed. "So it worked then? You've finished it?"

"Come look," George encouraged.

I was reluctant, but thought it might be best to just act as though nothing had happened the night before. After all, neither of the twins knew I had seen anything out of the ordinary. Until I made up my mind about whether or not to confront Fred, the best thing for me to do was act normal. Otherwise he would catch on that something was bothering me and I'd have to tell him anyway.

"Sure," I said, pushing the mess I had made of Ginny's floor off to the side.

Fred grinned happily at me and made to take my hand in his. I flinched and pulled away just as his fingers grazed mine. He shot a look at me, and I tried to play it off like I had to scratch my nose. I tucked my hand into the pocket of my jeans afterwards to avoid another encounter like that.

George pulled me quickly into his room and shut the door behind us. I took a seat down on his bed and waited for the grand reveal. Of course, neither of them knew I had already snuck a look at the finished product before I had gone to bed. I would just have to act astonished.

"We haven't figured out how we're going to package it yet," Fred told me, gesturing over to lumps of the grey-white putty sitting on the dresser in the corner of the room.

"We figure a Snitch-sized ball is sufficient enough for each package," George said, picking up a ball and handing it over to me.

"We finally got the colours right," Fred said, staring at me with expectancy.

I took the ball from George and rolled it around in my palm. My head was so full of Fred that I needed to think of something less-conspicuous. I pictured a Hippogriff, thinking quickly of Hagrid's Hippogriff Buckbeak who was causing so much controversy at Hogwarts this year. The putty reformed instantly into the shape of a small Hippogriff with shiny grey feathers and great wings, fading into silky horse-hair at the back.

"Do something more colourful," George encouraged.

I picked Bill Weasley, wishing to test the accuracy of the firey Weasley hair, but not wanting to give Fred the wrong idea by letting the putty take his shape like it had weeks ago during the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. A miniature, moving Bill stared up at us from my hand, smiling amiably.

"See," George said excitedly. "We've finally got it!"

"Yeah, you have," I said happily, allowing myself to grin fully at them both. They were beaming.

"Why'd you think of Bill?" Fred asked. There was a slightly teasing look in his eyes.

"Oh, Juliet has had a crush on Bill for ages," George said, brushing it off.

"That's not why!" I objected, although I couldn't deny the claim. When I was in first and second year and had had my first encounters with Bill Weasley, I had a tough time being around him without getting extremely clumsy and embarrassed. I had harboured a silly childhood crush on him until I was thirteen, and was teased relentlessly by Charlie, George and Fred. It had been quite an ordeal.

"I was under the impression you were over that," George said with an evil grin on his face.

"I am," I said irritably, and watched as the Perception Putty changed into a miniscule Fred and George, who were both pointing and laughing hysterically in my hand.

"I guess we don't have to tease you for this," George said, staring down at the models. "You clearly remember the ridicule from before."

"Of course I do," I said. "It was the first and only time I'll ever let you two catch wind of any romantic thoughts going on in my head."

I chanced a look at Fred to see if he would have a visible reaction and was surprised to see he looked thoughtful. Before my mind could betray me I curled my fingers around the laughing figures of the twins and stuck the putty in my pocket.

"I can keep this one, right?" I asked.

"It's yours," George said. "You're the first customer, so I guess this one can be on the house."

"After all you put me through, I should be getting a hundred of these for free," I said with a half-grin.

Christmas Eve day passed by quickly, but awkwardly as everyone at the Burrow anxiously awaited Christmas. Fred seemed to be trying awfully hard to get close to me, and I was trying equally hard to prevent him doing so. I wasn't sure if I was just noticing these things after what I had seen the night before. Perhaps he had always been that way with me and I had just never paid attention. But now that I was, I was a little worried.

At dinner that night I continued to notice Fred's eyes on me. Every time I'd turn to look at him he'd grin sheepishly and look back down at his food. I wanted to talk to George about it, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to get him alone. George had hinted to me that he believed Fred had started to take a fancy to me, but I hadn't truly believed it. My mind had changed since our previous conversation. It seemed much more likely that George had been right.

When dinner had ended I went back up to Ginny's room to finish my wrapping and to clean up the mess I'd left behind. It didn't seem like I was going to get a moment alone with George to voice my concerns, so I would just have to try and deal with it on my own.

Ginny came in just as I was finishing up.

"Do you need some help?" she asked.

"I've just finished," I said, "but thanks."

"Okay," she said, taking a seat down on her bed. I could feel her staring at me. I turned and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"What's up?" I asked.

She gave me a shy smirk and looked thoughtful for a minute before speaking.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," she said.

"Okay?" I prompted, taking a seat on my cot across from her.

"Is something going on with you and Fred?" she questioned. I was surprised with the boldness of her question. Ginny was only twelve years old, and she had always been a tad shy with me. The fact that a twelve-year-old girl was perceptive enough to realize something may be going on was a little disheartening. The evidence that Fred may fancy me was starting to pile up.

"Going on?" I asked, attempting to look puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Well I don't know if you've noticed," she said carefully, "but I think he likes you."

I bit my lip. "Why's that?"

"Well it's just some things I've been noticing," she said. Ginny was starting to sound like George, and I could feel the sinking feeling in my stomach start to return.

"Right, well I doubt he does, he's my best mate," I said calmly.

"Well maybe…" Ginny let her voice trail off.

"Just out of curiosity," I said, "What kind of things have you been noticing?"

Ginny shrugged.

"Mostly the way he looks at you during dinner," she said, "And the way he's constantly trying to get your attention…holding your hand, playing with your hair…little stuff like that."

I started to feel sick. She was making it very hard to deny, and I wanted badly to do just that.

I brushed it off, trying to sound casual and unfazed. "He's been doing all that? How come I haven't noticed?"

"I don't know, maybe because you're his best friend, and you never thought it was possible or something," she answered.

I forced a laugh.

"No, there's got to be some other explanation for it," I said simply. "There's just no way."

"I don't know," she said again, more slowly this time. "I noticed because it's the same… the same way I am around…" she blushed profusely and stared down at her hands. I was confused for a moment before I caught on.

"Oh!" I said. "Harry Potter."

If possible, Ginny blushed even more furiously.

"I know I'm being stupid when it happens," she said quietly, "but the way Fred looks at you… it's almost how I imagine I look when I see Harry."

I felt suddenly very strange. Not only was I having a conversation with Fred and George's twelve-year-old sister about Fred's potential feelings for me, but we had somehow got onto the topic of her and Harry too. I wasn't sure if I should feel flattered or frightened that my relationships with the Weasleys had suddenly become much more intimate than I had intended.

"Well…maybe I'll talk to George about it, see what he says," I told her. I made a move to get up and leave the room. Ginny was still looking embarrassed and I wasn't sure I was the right person to give her advice about Harry. I was still dumbstruck about my situation. I was the last person who should be giving romantic advice to another girl.

"Er… thanks for the insight," I told her as I hurried away.

George was heading up the stairs just as I was about to climb to the next level towards his room.

"George!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down so as not to be overheard by anyone else in the house. The situation was already mortifying enough.

"What do you want?" he asked me suspiciously, stopping a few steps below me on the staircase.

"Where's Fred?" I asked, not wanting him to overhear our conversation.

George nodded towards the next landing where their bedroom door stood ajar.

"What is it?" he asked.

I made an uncomfortable face and tried to choose my words carefully.

"Has um…has Fred…told you that he fancies me?"

A grin formed on George's lips.

"What's this?" he asked, "Has Jules just realized she's in love with Frederick too?"

"George-"

"Do you need help picking out children's names? Because I've had a few ideas…I've always thought George Weasley the Second had a nice ring to it. I mean I may never have children, so someone needs to carry on my title-"

"George!" I interrupted him.

"What are you two talking about?"

I whipped around to see Fred leaning over the railing, looking down at both of us. He had a curious expression on his face. It didn't look as though he had overheard anything.

"Nothing," I said calmly.

Fred gave us both a suspicious look before returning to his room and closing the door.

George turned back to me and gave me a supremely arrogant look. "I came to you ages ago about Fred and you waited until now to bring this up," he rolled his eyes. "It's very cliché of you to start up a relationship on Christmas Eve. I really would have thought you were better than that, Juliet."

"George come on, can we be serious?" I said. "I'm not trying to start anything up."

"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding confused.

"I'm not saying I fancy him," I said in a hushed voice. "I just…wanted to know if you're sure he fancies me."

"You mean…has he told me he likes you?" George asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"Why are you so curious all of a sudden?" he asked, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm not," I said.

George gave me a disbelieving look.

"I was talking to Ginny, and she said she thinks he has feelings for me," I wasn't about to tell him that I had walked in on Fred fantasizing about snogging me senseless. That was too much for me to handle. "I just wanted to know the truth."

"Oh, so when I say he likes you I'm lying, but when _Ginny_ says it-"

"George would you just answer the question?"

"Well, I don't know for sure," he admitted.

I felt a small amount of relief flood me. If Fred hadn't said anything to George about this, then it was likely he wasn't planning on acting on his feelings. Even though the twins weren't much for talking about emotions, I knew that this wasn't something they would keep from each other. The fact that Fred hadn't told George meant that he probably wasn't serious about the silly fantasies he might be having.

"Juliet, Fred may not have told me how he feels about you, but I'm his twin. I know him better than anybody."

I frowned. It was like he could read my mind.

"Trust me on this," he said.

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Ok…well then what am I supposed to do?"

He smiled and shrugged.

"Now if I went around telling everyone what to do the world would be a much different place," he said. "You'll have to figure that one out on your own."

He pinched my cheek affectionately and passed me on the stairs, heading up to his room.

"Fine, thanks, you've been a load of help," I said sarcastically as he made his way to his bedroom.

He turned and winked at me just before disappearing into the room, where I feared he may tell Fred everything we had just talked about.

Feeling a little sick to my stomach I made my way back to Ginny's bedroom, hoping to God that George was wrong about Fred this time.


	11. Holidays

**- CHAPTER ELEVEN -**

_Holidays_

The next day I was awoken by Ginny's excited voice hollering in my ear. As a twelve-year-old girl, she was still obnoxiously excited over Christmas. I groaned and rolled over in my bed, trying to stifle her voice with my pillow over my ears.

"Get up Juliet, it's Christmas!" she yelled as she yanked the covers off of me.

"I know," I grumbled, scratching my eyes ruthlessly.

"Well come on, let's go open presents!" she shouted. "Everyone else is downstairs!"

"Would you stop yelling?" I asked her, pulling my blanket back up over my head.

Two new sets of footsteps entered the room, and I heard Fred and George's voices.

"Ginny, calm down," George was saying. "Go downstairs and help Mum with the tea."

"You're coming down though, aren't you?" Ginny said.

"Just go," Fred urged.

I listened as Ginny bounded out of the room and then allowed myself to peek out at the twins standing over my cot.

"I'm glad I don't have any siblings," I groaned, scrubbing at my eyes once more.

"Well, she ruined our wake-up call," George huffed. "We had it all planned and everything."

"But I suppose Ginny's voice is just as obnoxious as what we had planned," Fred shrugged.

"We'd better get down there before she comes back up and fetches us," George said. "We just wanted to give you your gift here so Mum wouldn't make a fuss."

George handed over a bulky package labeled with a hand-written _W_.

"What is it?" I asked curiously.

"They're the first of the successful Weasley twin products we've been able to finish properly," Fred explained.

"Aside from the Perception Putty you've got some finalized Canary Creams and a small collection of what we think we're going to call Skiving Snackboxes," George said.

I ripped open the brown paper and peered at all of the colourful bobbles and sweets in the package. It looked like the twins had tried to design packaging. Everything was labelled with the same capitalized W as the wrapping had been.

"This is really cool," I said appreciatively.

"It's all still in the works," Fred told me, "and we don't recommend you eat them yourself, but we thought you should have a box of our first products."

"We've got big plans for this stuff," George said. "These early masterpieces could be worth a fortune someday."

"Collector's items," Fred grinned. "Plus, you've been a lot of help."

"It's not really much," George admitted sheepishly.

"But we've put a lot of work into it, and we know you have too—"

"I love it," I said, grinning at them both. "Thank you."

Fred and George wore satisfied smiles as they grabbed onto my arms and yanked me up from the bed.

"Well come on now, we'd better get downstairs," George said.

I followed the twins out of Ginny's bedroom. George led the way, and I gave a jolt when I felt Fred reach out and grab my hand. This time my morning reflexes weren't quick enough to allow me to react and instead my hand clamped around his nervously. I could feel myself starting to panic, and tried not to look at him.

When we made it down to the living room I immediately freed myself from Fred's grip and sat down on the floor next to Ginny, who was still bouncing in place excitedly. Fred and George sat down with us. Mrs. Weasley was making tea in the kitchen and Percy, Bill, Charlie and Mr. Weasley were seated around the room in their pyjamas.

"Mum!" Ginny called into the kitchen. "Mum, everyone's here. Can we start?"

Six teacups came zooming into the living room, followed by Mrs. Weasley who was carrying a tea kettle.

"Yes Ginny dear, you can start," she said kindly, beginning to pour tea for Percy.

The gifts were sorted into piles for each person. I had a small pile marked _"Juliet" _which included gifts from the Weasley family (save for Fred and George), Harry, Hermione, Katie, Alicia, Lee, and my parents. I received brand new quills, Quidditch gloves and a pewter cauldron (I had melted my last one in an unfortunate Potions lesson) as well as a copy of _Hogwarts_, _A History_, which Hermione had been insisting I read, and several bars of Honeydukes chocolate and sweets. Mrs. Weasley had also knitted me a blue Weasley jumper. They were not exactly fashionable, but they were extremely useful during the cold weather months in the castle.

In fact, all of the Weasleys had received a jumper. George insisted we all put them on so we could spend Christmas day looking like a proper family. I agreed, mostly because I didn't want to cause a fuss in front of Mrs. Weasley after she had so painstakingly made my jumper for me.

The atmosphere at the Burrow was very upbeat throughout the morning. I found that I couldn't even bring myself to worry about Fred while everyone was in such a good mood.

As the day wore on the snow outside picked up fiercely. The wind was howling against the windows, and the sky was littered with white flecks so thick you could barely see the backyard.

"Let's go outside," George said, eyeing the blizzard with excitement. "We could play Quidditch. That'd be an interesting game, wouldn't you say, Juliet?"

"You won't be going out in this weather," Mrs. Weasley said, "I am not going to risk having you freeze to death or blown away in this storm."

"Aw, Mum. Where's your sense of adventure?" George objected.

"You worry too much," Fred agreed.

"Fred, George, if you want to do something, you can help me make dinner. It'll take all day," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I think that's the last thing you want us helping you with," Fred said with a grin that agreed with his statement.

"Well then, you can help clean the house," she said sternly.

"No, I don't think we'll be doing that mother dear," George said.

"Of course we will Mrs. Weasley," I piped up. Molly Weasley had a lot on her plate. Despite the fact that I was as nearly as mischievous as her sons, I couldn't bring myself to deny her a little bit of help around the house.

"Thank you dear," she said warmly. "Boys, you get going!"

The Burrow was by far the most fascinating house I had ever stepped foot in. Even cleaning it was interesting. Molly and Arthur had all sorts of knickknacks passed down from generations of their families. Each room had its own personality. It didn't make any difference to me that the walls were lopsided, or that there were unexplained creaks and drafts in areas of the house. The Burrow was distinguished. I envied the twins and their bedroom located on a floor entirely supported by magic. I loved the foul-sounding ghoul who lived in the attic. My house seemed downright dull in comparison to the wonders of the Weasley residence.

The afternoon sped by quickly with the three of us tidying up. Ginny, Bill and Charlie were all dusting surfaces and sweeping floors – Bill and Charlie were of course using magic – and the crooked house was in top condition just as my parents arrived.

All of us were relaxing in the living room before dinner. I was seated in an armchair with Fred leaning up against my legs in a would-be casual manner. I couldn't help but notice, however, the way his fingers kept reaching up to trace my hand which was hanging off the edge of the chair's arm. George kept shooting me suspicious looks that I pretended to ignore. I was trying very hard not to think about what all of these changes with Fred meant.

When my parents arrived I was quick to jump up from the incriminating position in which Fred and I were seated. I had no desire to let my mother get any silly ideas about the two of us. She's not the type of mother to interfere, but I preferred to avoid any awkward dinner conversations that could possibly arise.

Anyone who knew my parents separately would never have guessed they were a married couple. My Dad, standing at a full height of 5 foot 7 inches, was only a smidgeon taller than me. He was balding, but kept his hair very short to disguise it. He had the impression that being bald by choice was a much more respectable look. His round face, however, was completed by a very thick beard and moustache. I have never known him to ever have been without it. He also had a skin tone much darker than my own. I did, however, inherit his deep chocolate brown eyes. Working as a Mediwizard taught Dad to be highly analytical. He scarcely misses a detail, and was well regarded as one of the strongest wizards in his field. Talented in his youth, Dad has worked hard to gain the success he has today.

My Mum is an entirely different story. Taller than my father, my Mum stands at a solid 5 foot 9 inches. She has dark, chestnut brown hair that she crops short, and a smile that is infectious. She has light freckles across her nose (which I inherited), and soft green eyes that she frames with thick square glasses. Mum could almost pass as my older sister, but the crinkled wrinkles around her eyes give her away when she smiles. Unlike Dad, Mum has a tendency to overreact and shies away from difficult decisions. She works at a wizarding publishing company as an editor due to her love of reading. It is because of this that she has such a vast understanding of the magical community.

My parents both attended Hogwarts—my dad four years ahead of my mum. Dad was a Gryffindor and Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was a brilliant boy, but had difficulty with schoolwork. Mum was a studious Ravenclaw who had top marks in her classes. They met when she graduated school, and were married when she was twenty-two. I was born just short of a year later.

"Juliet," Mum said with one of her infectious grins breaking across her lips, "how are you? Have you been behaving?" She shot a knowing smile at Fred and George.

She enveloped me in a tight hug. Mum and I were fairly close. She had simple tastes and was easy to get along with. Sometimes I missed the days when I was young and could spend all day with her.

"Yes Mum, of course," I said with a falsely innocent tone.

Mum released me and hugged George, followed immediately by Fred. Every time my mother had encountered Fred and George she broke into hysterics at their antics. She found them to be delightful.

"Hi Dad," I said, greeting my father with a hug as well. Dad and I were very similar people. He had a sense of humour much like my own, and was incredibly easy to talk to. He was always encouraging me to be the best I could be… and if I were the type of person to be swayed by that kind of encouragement, it would be him that would rub off on me most.

"Hello," he said simply. "How has school been? No more dangerous incidents with Sirius Black, I hope."

"Not since the last one," I said with a strained smile at the memory.

"I'm sure Dumbledore is taking every precaution to prevent that from happening," Mr. Weasley said.

"Arthur," Dad greeted, shaking hands with Mr. Weasley.

"Kirk," Mr. Weasley said with a smile. "How is work?"

"It's been busy," he answered. "There have been a lot of incidents where people have jinxed themselves silly. They keep thinking they see Sirius Black and are attempting ridiculous magic. This whole thing has got people scared silly."

"You don't have to tell me," Mr. Weasley replied. "We're getting angry letters every day asking why no one has caught him yet. Everyone's in an uproar."

"Now, now," Mrs. Weasley said, coming in to greet my parents as well, "it's Christmas. There's no need to be talking about Death Eaters at dinner."

"Molly, everything smells lovely," Mum said, giving Mrs. Weasley a hug. "How do you manage to look after all of these kids and still cook a fantastic meal?"

"Oh, you flatter me," Mrs. Weasley said with a wave of her hand. "But everything is served, so come, sit down."

When everyone was seated at the dinner table George leaned over and hissed into my ear. "What is going on with you two?" I knew he was referring to Fred and the way we were seated in the living room earlier.

"Nothing," I answered truthfully, muttering out of the side of my mouth.

"Right," George said sarcastically. "After the conversation we had last night, I would have thought you'd be more careful around him."

"Listen, I don't think of him that way," I told him in a whisper so Fred wouldn't hear. He was sitting on the other side of me, but was immersed in conversation with his dad and mine.

"Fine," George replied, "Just make sure he knows that."

Dinner progressed with light conversation being passed back and forth across the table. My parents had not met either Charlie or Bill before, and Mum enjoyed hearing stories about the dragons Charlie looked after in Romania. Percy was attempting to attain praise by gloating about his position as Head Boy. No one was paying him much attention. As for Fred, he seemed to be trying extra hard to flirt with me. I wasn't sure if I was just noticing it because I was looking for signs of his fancying me, but I could feel my face flushing up with nervousness. It happened so much that by the end of the night my dad was asking me if I was feeling okay.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley invited my parents back for New Year's Eve. Mum and Dad went home with the promise that they would be seeing us again soon. To my horror my mother made a joke about Fred keeping his hands to himself around me. I felt my face flush up and I gave a hurried goodbye before making a break for upstairs.

Fred and George followed quickly after me and pulled me into their room. They seemed to be in a very good mood after the lighthearted dinner, and I was thankful that neither of them had heard the joke my mother had muttered in my ear.

"Did you hear Percy at dinner?" George asked with a laugh. I forced down my shame and tried to forget what my mother had said.

"I was trying not to listen to him," I said with a half-hearted chuckle.

"He literally does not have a life outside of school," Fred said, flopping down onto his bed. "I saw him in his bedroom yesterday polishing his Head Boy badge."

"Where's the use in that?" George asked.

I laughed in earnest this time. "After all of these years I am still honestly shocked that he is related to the two of you."

The twins chuckled appreciatively.

"Well, to be fair, there aren't too many Weasleys who are in the same realm as Fred and me," George pointed out.

"Yeah, that's right," Fred agreed. "I don't think any of them hold a candle to us. Bill would probably be the least exasperating, wouldn't you reckon?"

I laughed. I knew Fred and George were joking. As much as they took the mickey out of their siblings, I knew they really did appreciate every one of them… well perhaps Percy really was an exception to that.

The laughter between the three of us continued well into the night. The light-heartedness of the holidays had settled in the atmosphere and had us swapping stories and chuckling long after midnight. It was hours before George fell asleep on his bed with his face in his pillow. I was dozing off in my seat on Fred's bed as well, and jolted at the sound of his voice.

"A little tired?" Fred said with a smile in his voice.

I grumbled in response and leaned my head up against the headboard, hardly noticing as Fred pulled the blanket up and over me.

"You can sleep in here tonight," he said quietly. "I don't mind."

Something inside of me probably should have set off a warning, telling me that likely wasn't the best idea. It didn't, however. Instead I groaned again cuddled into his side, falling quickly into sleep.

* * *

New Year's Eve was upon us before we had even realized where the holiday break had gone. My parents came back to the Burrow to celebrate with the rest of us. Everyone was gathered in the living room waiting for the moment when they could say goodbye to the old and ring in the new. There was still about an hour left and everyone was swapping stories happily.

Ginny and Charlie were playing a game of Wizard's Chess, and Fred was waiting to play the winner. Bill and George were playing a round of Exploding Snap and the adults were drinking themselves stupid.

"You know…" said Fred turning to me.

"What?" I asked him raising my eyebrow.

"You're supposed to kiss someone to welcome in the New Year," he said with a suggestive smile. "It's tradition."

"Well that's great, but considering I am the only non-related girl here, I'm not going to go around kissing all of your brothers," I told him.

"That's not true," Fred said, "Your mother's here."

I made a disturbed face.

"Well kiss her then," I replied humourlessly.

George made snickering noises and Fred looked put out. Ginny cast me an '_I told you so'_ look.

"Looks like I was right," Ginny whispered in my ear after having beaten Charlie at Wizard's Chess. Fred was reassembling the board.

I cringed a bit at the thought, but didn't say anything to her. Instead I just shrugged and turned away.

"It's almost time," George said, looking at the clock on the wall.

I smiled. Fred and George had set up firecrackers all around the house and put them on a timer. They would go off at exactly midnight. Only Ginny and I knew about their plan, and that was only because we had walked in on them when they were setting them up. I knew Mrs. Weasley wouldn't be happy about it, but Fred and George always did things big.

"Tired?" Fred asked me as he waited for Charlie to make his move on the Wizard's chess board.

"A little," I answered holding back a yawn.

He put his arm around me and I leaned up against him… I mentally scolded myself for behaving so stupidly. One minute I was telling Fred to go kiss my mother, and the next I was snuggled up under his arm. I was beginning to feel very mixed up.

That's when I felt it-Fred kissing the top of my head. I knew I was in for a world of trouble. I glanced at George and saw him giving me a warning look.

_I promise I'll straighten up in the New Year. That'll be my resolution._

"Hey, it's almost midnight," I heard Bill say.

I sat up as everyone started counting down. I braced myself for the eruption of noise that would occur after the counting was complete. Fred and George both grinned widely as we reached the last seconds of the year.

A huge amount of noise filled and surrounded the house as rockets shot off and swirled around the Burrow. The windows were lit up with every colour of the rainbow. Fred and George jumped up and danced around enthusiastically.

"YOU TWO!" yelled Mrs. Weasley angrily.

"It's almost finished Mum," George yelled, prancing around the room. He was trying to get Percy up and dancing with him.

Mrs. Weasley didn't look impressed.

I looked over at my parents and saw my father looking drunk beyond belief. He and Mr. Weasley were dancing around like idiots as well. Mr. Weasley was enthusiastically giving Fred a high five. Ginny and I were chortling in appreciation at the display.

After all the noise died down I gave my mother and very drunk father a hug before they left. They had Apparated to the Burrow, but because Dad was now impaired he was going to have to do a side-along with Mum.

"Have fun at school," my mum said as she stepped back to Apparate away. Dad was shaking Mr. Weasley's hand and seemed to forget that he was supposed to let go.

"I will," I promised, smiling.

"And be good!" she said stressing her last sentence before both of my parents disappeared.

"Alright, everyone up to bed!" Mrs. Weasley said shooing us all upstairs to our rooms. "Fred, George, we will talk about this in the morning."

The boys grinned in response. They must have known their mother wasn't going to hold onto her annoyance tonight.

Ginny and I ascended the stairs together, watching as the twins continued up to the next floor. Once they were out of earshot Ginny gave me a superior look.

"I told you," she said as we entered her room and readied ourselves for bed.

I didn't respond.

"Thank Merlin you didn't kiss him," she said scrunching up her face, "I would not have liked to see that."

I let out a small laugh at her expression and pulled on my pyjamas.

"Seriously, it's so obvious," she said, climbing into her bed.

"Yes Ginny, now can stop talking about it please?" I said exasperatedly her as I crawled into my cot.

She grinned widely at me, "Goodnight then."

I grumbled.

"Goodnight."


	12. Conversing

**- CHAPTER TWELVE -**

_Conversing_

The remainder of the holidays went by much quicker than I cared for. We were back at Hogwarts again readying ourselves for the start of term long before I was ready. We were almost immediately bombarded by schoolwork again, but that wasn't the worst of it. What was possibly even more trying on my temper was the fact that the number of people badgering me about Fred had increased to four. Alicia and Lee must have had a conversation with George, because by the time classes had started up again, I was putting up with everyone's constant badgering. Ginny, thankfully, seemed to have toned after returning to school. For that I was thankful, because I found it harder to be annoyed with her than with my own friends.

In fact, the only time I didn't have George, Alicia and Lee taking the piss out of me about Fred was during classes. None of them seemed keen on bringing it up in the middle of a lesson. They also seemed civilized enough to keep their mouths shut when Fred was around. Thus, it actually came as a relief when school hours recommenced and I had something to distract from the lingering awkwardness between Fred and me.

Transfiguration was the first class we attended in the New Year. Professor McGonagall was having us transfigure goblets into fairies. It was fairly simple work for me. Transfiguration was my strongest class by far. Fred and George, however, found Transfiguration more difficult. Unlike me, the twins were extremely good at Potions and excellent at Charms. I was fair in Charms, but constantly sought help from the two of them in Potions class. In Transfiguration, the twins tended to call on Lee and myself for assistance. It was a fair trade-off.

"When will we ever use this in real life?" Fred grumbled to me irritably. I had to admit, despite the fact that I was having no trouble with my goblet, I too couldn't see the use in the lesson.

"No idea," I said with a casual shrug as I watched George examine a goblet with lopsided wings.

My goblet had changed into a chirping fairy on my second try.

"Very good Miss Christie," Professor McGonagall complimented as she passed by during her rounds of the class. "Five points to Gryffindor."

I grinned and George grumbled.

"How did you do that?" George asked. His tone was a mixture of annoyance and awe.

"Very good, Mr. Jordan," Professor McGonagall said before frowning at Fred and George's shoddy work. "You two would do well to take notes from your partners."

Lee gave the twins a triumphant grin and George tossed his half-goblet-half-fairy at his head.

"How come you are so much better at this than we are?" George asked me. "It's not normal. You're usually the stupid one."

I glared at him, kicking him hard under the table as my goblet fairy flew around my head, chirping loudly.

"Ah well," Fred said with a shrug, "at least this is useless magic. It's alright to be lousy at producing fairies. Who needs that?"

"You say that now," I said, "but sooner or later I'll be able to turn you into a duck and you'll feel pretty silly that you never learned."

Fred grinned and pinched my arm, making me yell out. Professor McGonagall whipped around and fixed us with a hard stare, but said nothing.

"Did you hear Harry got a Firebolt?" asked Lee as Fred jabbed his wand at his goblet in frustration. He took a swipe at the fairy flying around my head.

"Yes, I saw it arrive with the post," I answered as the fairy stuck its tongue out at Fred.

"But McGonagall confiscated it," George said in an irritated tone, casting a nasty glance at Professor McGonagall. He slammed his wand down on the desk, causing red sparks to fly out of the end, accidentally catching Fred's robes on fire.

"Does she honestly think Black would be able to buy a broomstick while he's on the run?" Fred asked, casually patting the small fire out on the sleeve of his robe before it spread. He took another swat at the fairy, missing again.

"Well I guess she does," I answered, "though I don't know how it would be possible."

"Alright class," Professor McGonagall said standing at the front of the classroom, "Those of you who were not able to complete the transformation, I suggest you practice until you are able to. If you cannot perform it by next class, I will be assigning you to write two feet about the usefulness of the spell."

There were a few groans from the students as they gathered their things and headed out of the classroom. I turned my wand on the irritating fairy (who was now circling Fred's head, pulling on the ends of his hair) and turned it back into a goblet, placing it neatly on my desk.

"Well we know at least two of us won't be doing that assignment," George said with a roll of his eyes. He took my left arm and pulled me out of the room.

"That essay will be impossible to write!" Fred protested angrily as the three of us pushed our way out of the door. "There are _no_ uses for turning a goblet into a bloody fairy!"

"It's more useful as a goblet," George agreed. "But Juliet and Lee will give us a few pointers."

"You can count me out," Lee said. "I've got no interest in trying to teach you lot."

I rolled my eyes at them. "Well I suppose _I_ could help you learn the spell in time for next class."

"Well, I don't doubt that," George said, ignoring my unwilling tone, "you always come through for us." He smiled cheekily.

"What would you two ever do without me?" I asked with a roll of my eyes as Fred looped his arm through my right one just as George had done on the left.

Fred shrugged. "I reckon we'd be all right."

"A little bored maybe, but with fewer headaches," George stated.

I ignored them as the four of us made our way back to Gryffindor tower. Transfiguration had been our last class of the day.

When we entered the common room students were chattering around pleasantly. Oliver was there planning team tactics with his ridiculous miniature Quidditch pitch. The bloke is obsessive.

"Hey Wood," George said, sitting down in an armchair. Fred and I followed suit, flopping down on the couch next to his chair. Lee ran up to his dormitory to toss his stuff.

"Hey," Oliver answered, not bothering to look up.

"Is Harry going to be alright next match, with the Dementors and all?" Fred said, directing his question towards Wood.

"I had a talk with him earlier; he said that Professor Lupin is giving him some kind of lesson. It's supposed to help him deal with it…not be affected by them or something."

I looked at him curiously. "Really?"

Wood looked up and eyed me for a moment. "That's what he said. Why?"

I pondered it for a minute, wondering how on earth Lupin expected Harry to be able to perform that kind of magic.

"It's just…I only know of one way to fight a Dementor," I said.

"What is it?" Fred asked.

"Well, it's to form a Patronus," I said. "But that's pretty advanced magic—far too advanced for a third year, surely."

Fred and George quirked their eyebrows at me in identical looks of surprise.

"How do you know that?" Fred asked.

I shrugged. "Dad told me about it. He's seen accidental cases of Dementors getting out of control. I was curious about how to prevent them getting to you."

"All I know is that Harry said it was under control," Oliver replied, turning back to his miniature Quidditch pitch, unconcerned by my line of thinking.

"I'm not sure _we'd_ be able to form a Patronus, never mind Harry," I said, more to myself than to either of the twins. Wood had obviously stopped listening.

"I don't know about that," George said.

"I wouldn't put it past you," Fred told me.

"Her?" George said, looking aghast. "I was referring to me."

I rolled my eyes and ignored him, addressing Fred instead. "Just because I'm good at Transfiguration—"

"You're good at everything else you do too," Fred disagreed. I tried not to let the blush caused by his flattery rise to my cheeks.

"That's rubbish. I'm lousy at Potions, and I can't _see_ worth a damn. I had to give up Divination, remember?" I pointed out.

"Divination is a joke," George said with a laugh.

"You two are clever enough to work it out," I said.

"Clever," Fred repeated. "You say that like it's a surprise."

I shrugged. "It kind of is."

"So what, now you think we're stupid?" George questioned, feigning offense.

"_No_," I said sarcastically. "Pulling out a bottle of shampoo and washing your hair in the middle of Potions class is an absolutely _brilliant_ thing to do," I laughed with another roll of my eyes.

"That was one time!" George defended. "And I swear it worked. I still uphold Snape's hair was shinier the next day."

"He took that joke to heart," Fred agreed.

I winked at him. "It was still moronic. He nearly took off your head he was so angry."

"Well that's just great," George muttered, sounding defeated. "Now we're idiots, Fred."

"Looks that way."

The two of them mumbled and slumped down further in their seats, clearly looking for some display of sympathy. I ignored them, putting my feet up on the table in front of me. I stared at the crackling fire for several minutes until their sighs of disappointment and fake sniffs finally broke me down.

"I don't think you're stupid," I said, giving in.

"You…you don't?" Fred asked, pretending to look hopeful as he wiped away non-existent tears.

"No," I answered with a sigh.

"You're lying," George insisted, feigning a look of hurt.

I rolled my eyes. "You drive me crazy."

The two of them grinned.

"Why, thank you Juliet," Fred said with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "That's the greatest compliment we could receive."

"It means we've done our job well," George agreed.

"Well, now that we're all complimenting each other I'd just like to say that George, I've always been jealous of your eyebrows," Fred said. "Mine don't reach nearly as high when I'm surprised. It's kind of disappointing."

I smacked my hand against my forehead and pushed myself up off of the couch.

"Alright, enough of the ridiculousness for one night," I said with a laugh. "I think these little heart-to-hearts we have are going to have to be put to an end. I think my brain will explode if I have to endure any more of this."

Lee hurried down the stairs. "I'm going down to supper," he announced.

George grinned.

"I was waiting for someone to say that," he said happily, standing up from his seat.

The common room was indeed starting to empty of students as the Gryffindors headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. The four of us followed suit, pushing through the portrait hole door and into the corridor.

George was blathering on about something or other to Lee—"Charlie told me he was planting the sock in the garden, but I must have misheard…"—but I was paying zero attention to his antics.

I was daydreaming about some Honeydukes chocolate I had tucked away in my trunk in the dormitory when Fred interrupted my thoughts.

"Jules?" he asked quietly.

George's ranting didn't stop. "I mean, how many times do you have to tell a person—they're _flesh-eating_ frogs…"

"What?" I asked, turning to Fred (and ignoring George as he continued).

"You don't actually think we're stupid, do you?" he questioned, catching me totally off-guard. The look on his face almost made me laugh out loud. He was _serious_. "I mean, it sounded like you were joking around…but you can tell me if that's what you really think."

I surveyed his expression for a moment longer before deciding that this wasn't some sort of bizarre joke. George and Lee weren't paying attention to either of us ("…that's just the way life works you know, sometimes you win, other times you just gotta suck it up…so I gave in and drank it…").

"Fred you're a moron," I said rolling my eyes.

He must have misunderstood me, because he bent his head down a little and replied with a muttered, "Oh."

I was confused for half-a-second before I recovered, tugging on Fred's arm forcefully. "Wait, no. I didn't mean that literally…well I did…but I don't mean it like that," I said, trying to correct my mistake. "I don't think you're stupid, Fred."

"You sure?" he asked.

I laughed. "The fact that you think I do is a little concerning. We've been friends for how long and you still don't know what I think of you?"

Fred laughed and put his arm around me. I unwillingly began to glow at the gesture. George's voice babbled on… "…and then Mum tells me she already gave my old t-shirts to Ron…"

Fred surveyed me intently for a minute. "What _do_ you think of me?"

My eyes widened a little in shock, and I fought to keep myself breathing. That was not the kind of question I wanted to be asked by him. Fortunately, George saved me.

"…then Percy pops his head in and says he's not going to the party! Can you believe that?"

George stared at us expectantly. His face was flushed and Lee was laughing. He was clearly passionate about whatever he was talking about.

Fred's face was expectant too…but for an entirely different reason.

"That's pretty ridiculous, George," I said just as the four of us entered the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was already filling up with students. Katie and Alicia were seated at the Gryffindor table, and we made a beeline for them. I pretended like Fred hadn't asked me a question in the hopes that he would forget about it. Thankfully, he didn't bring it up again.

Dinner was long and unsatisfying despite my hunger. I was far too focused on pondering how I would have answered Fred's question to enjoy my dinner. I also missed George re-telling his story, so I'm still not sure what flesh-eating frogs and Charlie planting socks in the garden has to do with Mrs. Weasley giving away George's old t-shirts.

When dinner ended, George caught my attention, and the two of us fell back behind the others as we headed back to Gryffindor.

"So, I haven't had the chance to check in on you yet today," he said. I sighed. I knew where this was going. I glanced forward and was relieved to see we were out of ear-shot of Lee and Fred. "Have you given any thought to how you're going to deal with your Fred situation yet?"

"I already told you, I don't feel the same way about him," I said a little harshly.

It was a blatant lie…or at least _I think_ it was a lie. How I felt about Fred was something I didn't even want to think about myself, let alone discuss with another human being.

"Are you sure about that?" George questioned.

"Of course I'm sure George!" I yelled, and then jerked my head around to make sure the other two hadn't heard me.

"You don't seem to mind all of the attention he's been giving you," George said pointedly, dropping his voice even more.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, glaring at him.

"Do you, or do you not like him back?" George asked me. He gave me a look telling me he was serious.

"This is ridiculous," I told him instantly.

"Answer the question," he said sternly.

"It's Fred…I could never like him as more than a friend," I answered. It sounded like I was trying to convince myself and not George. I hoped he wouldn't pick up on it.

"Oh really?" he asked smirking.

"Yes really!" I yelled, remembering to be quiet a moment too late. I dropped my voice again. "And even if I did—and I _don't_—I would never do anything about it."

"Why not?" George asked.

"Because, if anything ever did happen between us everything would change," I said, becoming very quiet and looking at my feet.

George fell silent and I listened to Fred and Lee laughing ahead of us until he replied.

"Change isn't always a bad thing," he said. He wasn't mocking me anymore. He sounded genuine and sympathetic.

"In this case it would be," I replied.

"How do you know?" George asked. "Have you ever dated your best friend before?"

"No."

"Well then why don't you give it a shot?" George asked seriously.

I sighed, feeling annoyed that George had somehow wormed his way into getting me to reveal more than I had wanted to.

"George, why are we even talking about this? I do not like Fred," I repeated loudly.

"Who are you trying to convince?" he asked, "because it certainly isn't working on me."

I couldn't reply to that…because I wasn't really sure how to answer. Was I really being truthful to George, or was I just trying to convince myself of how I _should_ feel?

I shook my head in an irritated manner.

"And besides, you wouldn't want me dating your brother would you?" I asked, deciding to ignore his question.

"I thought it didn't matter because you don't like him," George replied eyeing me suspiciously.

"I don't."

"Ok."

I paused and looked at him.

"You don't believe me do you?"

"Not even a little bit," George replied smugly.

We were silent again as I debated whether or not I should really talk to George openly about the situation. He seemed like he really wanted to help. I sighed again.

"Nothing is going to happen between Fred and me," I said quietly.

George turned to me with a look of surprise on his face. Whether it was from my sentence, or the tone of my voice, I'm not quite sure.

"Why not?" he asked again.

"I wouldn't want to do anything to muck up our friendship."

He pondered that for a moment, studying my expression.

"If you like him you have to risk it."

My reply came several minutes too late, thus giving me away.

"Well I guess it's a good thing I don't like him then."

I don't think I fooled anyone…not even me.


	13. Close Encounters

**- CHAPTER THIRTEEN -**

_Close Encounters_

After my talk with George, I convinced myself not to think about Fred. I realized I could deny anything if I put my mind to it. Therefore, I put as much effort as I possibly could into forgetting about Fred and the fact that he fancied me. I had already decided that it would be for the best to not date him, even if I happened to feel the same way (which I _didn't_ by the way). Nothing good could ever come from dating my best friend. What if something went wrong? Who knows how it could end.

Being stubborn, I kept to my rules and decided not to allow myself to think about Fred and the potential feelings that lingered between us. George was becoming frustrated by my behaviour and was constantly attempting to get me to talk about the situation. Stupid blighter. When would he give it up?

I guess it was mostly my fault. After our last conversation, George surely thought he had gotten through to me. On some level it might have been true, but I had my mind set. I was comfortable with the way things were. Fred was just going to have to put his feelings aside so things could remain normal between us. There was no need to go changing a situation that was already working out fine.

It was a week after the start of term, and Slytherin had played Ravenclaw in a Quidditch match in which Slytherin had won narrowly. This was good news for Gryffindor (as Wood told us). We would move up to second place if we could beat Ravenclaw too. Unfortunately, it also meant that Oliver was even more determined to kick things into high-gear. He increased practices to five times a week, leaving very little time for school work.

Fortunately for the twins, I had managed to find time amongst my busy schedule to teach them the Transfiguration spell they had been having difficulty with. That meant they got away without having to write an essay for McGonagall.

Being our fifth year at Hogwarts, the group of us had also begun revising for our OWLs. Even Fred and George had been sticking their noses into a book or two when they could find a spare moment. I was doing fairly well in most of my classes. Transfiguration was my strongest, followed by Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms. My marks in Care of Magical Creatures were also good, but that was only due to the fact that Hagrid's classes composed merely of looking after Flobberworms. My Herbology and Muggle Studies marks were decent, but I was struggling with Potions, Astronomy and History of Magic (which I almost always fell asleep in).

"Can I copy your notes from Potions class?"

I looked up from my homework to see Fred standing in front of me holding his books, parchment and quill.

I scrunched up my face in consideration. "How is it you and George manage to do so much better than me in Potions, and yet neither of you take notes?" I asked as I pushed my work toward him to copy.

He shrugged, taking a seat down next to me on the sofa. "We're just gifted I guess. Plus, you take notes for us, so we don't have to."

He grinned cheekily at me as he began to scribble down a copy of my notes in shorthand.

"Oh, and thanks for that by the way," he said offhandedly.

"Mhm…"I replied, scratching down what was certainly the wrong answer for my Muggle Studies essay. "How else do Muggles travel, aside from buses?" I asked.

Fred shrugged. "Trains, cars," he said. "I've heard Dad talk about aery-planes."

"Right," I said thoughtfully. I hoped Professor Burbage wouldn't be too picky on spelling as I flipped through my book for references.

"You pay too much attention in Potions," Fred announced, staring down at my notes.

"It doesn't help me any," I pointed out. "If it weren't for you and George I'd be failing."

"That's true. Maybe I should stop coming to your assistance. It might be fun to watch you fail miserably at something."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"You're annoying," I told him.

"As are you."

"What am I going to get as repayment for putting up with you for all of these years?" I asked. "Surely I deserve some kind of reward."

"Like what?" he asked, his quill still scribbling furiously on the parchment. "A kiss from a devilishly handsome young Gryffindor?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at me suggestively as a cheeky grin spread across his lips.

"Oh, why, is Oliver here?" I asked looking around the room casually. I wasn't going to let him get the satisfaction of seeing how much the thought of him kissing me flustered me.

His grin faded. He rolled his eyes and turned back to his notes muttering something I didn't quite catch.

I, in turn, refocused my attention on the tedious essay in front of me… only, I was finding extremely difficult to concentrate with Fred so close to me.

The room was extremely quiet, and I could hear nothing but the scratch of Fred's quill, the crackling of the fire and the slow, deep intake of Fred's steady breathing. I found myself unable to even look at the homework in front of me, but instead allowed my eyes to wander over to where Fred's left hand was resting on the table very close to mine. Turning my head ever so slightly to the right I could see the way the sweater he was wearing was hugging close to his body, almost as if it were just a little too small. I could also see the bright blue of his eyes as they focused on the paper in front of him.

Damn, I needed to get a hold of myself. Surely this wasn't healthy.

I tried to shake myself of the feelings that were creeping up on me, but found my mind wandering back to what George had said to me the other day…

"_If you like him you have to risk it."_

I scrunched up my face, pondering that sentence. _Why_? Why did I have to risk it? Maybe I don't like taking risks. What if something went wrong and nothing is ever the same again? How do I know we won't end messily and never speak again?

I bit the end of my quill in frustration and stared blankly at the parchment in front of me. There was no way I was going to get any of it finished tonight.

"Hey, want to go down to the kitchens?" Fred asked, looking up from my Potions note.

"You're finished already?" I asked, snapping out of my thoughts, only to find myself dazzled by the crystal clear blue of his eyes. I needed to get a grip.

"I write quickly," Fred replied, handing my notes back to me.

I took the parchment and tucked it back into my bag slowly, biting down on my lip hard as I did.

"You ok?" Fred asked. His voice sounded concerned, and the look of worry in his eyes made my heart flutter involuntarily.

I cleared my throat loudly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know…you seem kind of out of it today."

"Well I'm fine, but thanks for the concern," I lied.

"So, kitchens?" he asked, standing up and holding his hand out to me.

I paused for a minute, feeling extremely hesitant. Heading off to the kitchens alone with Fred certainly wouldn't help me in my quest to squash any existing feelings I may (but probably didn't) have for him. Then again, not going would clue him in that something was definitely wrong with me. I didn't want him to be suspicious of my actions. That might lead to some uncomfortable questions.

"Jules?" he asked, the worry once again present in his tone.

I quickly stifled my hesitation and took his hand, trying my best not to pay attention to how nice the contact felt.

Fred smiled and led me out of the common room toward the kitchens. We walked in complete silence. I wasn't sure why he wasn't speaking, but I knew why I wasn't. The silence that surrounded us wasn't the usual comfortable silence I normally shared with either of the twins. This was infinitely more frightening. This silence was awkward and nervous, and I didn't care for it much at all.

Fortunately, I didn't have to fight very hard to try and break the awkward tension between Fred and I, as we were interrupted at that point by George running to catch up to us.

"Hey!" he yelled, immediately catching our attention.

Fred and I turned around half-heartedly to greet him. I dropped Fred's hand instinctively. There was really nothing to hide, but I didn't want George to pester me further.

"I'm coming with you," he said, seemingly taking no notice of the hand holding.

"Ok," Fred and I answered unconcerned.

The walk continued quietly, neither Fred nor I speaking. George, however, felt the need to yet again voice his concern for my relationship with Fred.

"And how's my favourite Fred-obsessed best friend?" he whispered in my ear so that only I could hear him.

I glared at him, and then turned away.

"I'm good thanks," I said simply, ignoring his remark.

"So you admit you're Fred obsessed?" George asked smugly.

"The only thing I will admit to is having a complete moron as a best friend."

"Ooh, harsh."

"Shut up George," I said angrily, "You know this whole thing really isn't any of your business."

"How is it not my business?" he asked incredulously, "We're talking about my best friend and my twin brother here."

"No we're not, because there's nothing to talk about," I said. "We've been through it all already."

"So you're still not going to admit you like him?" George asked.

"I _don't_ like him," I replied sternly under my breath. Fred didn't seem to notice the conversation. He looked as though he were deep in thought.

"Of course you don't," George said sarcastically. "You know you can tell me if you do."

"I _don't_, George."

"You do realize you're stupid," he said, "I can see right through you."

"The fact that I'm stupid is not relevant here."

"It certainly is relevant," he disagreed.

I pinched his arm and he let out a squeal of pain. I laughed.

Fred snapped out of whatever trance he was in and gave us both confused looks.

"What are you two talking about?" he asked with a thoroughly puzzled look on his face.

"Nothing," I answered quickly, seeing as George had opened his mouth to provide his own (and certainly more damaging) answer.

"Well next time would you mind including me, I feel like an idiot over here," he said.

I gave him a weak smile but said nothing as the entrance to the kitchens came into view.

As soon as the three of us had entered the room, three house elves ran up to us with their ears flapping and arms open in a welcoming gesture. As usual, Fred and George requested enough food to feed a small family. The house elves ran off happily to fetch their meals as we took our seats in our usual stools.

"I think it would be lovely to include Fred in our conversation," George said smugly as we settled ourselves down.

I glared at him. "I don't think Fred needs to be bothered by your idiocy, George."

"I think he'd enjoy it," George countered. Fred looked on in confusion.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" I grumbled, shooting daggers at him with my eyes.

"Why do I care about what?" he asked, playing stupid.

I rolled my eyes at him and refused to answer.

"Well I'm finding this all extremely annoying, especially since I know I'm right. I wish you would just fess up and let me have my glory," he answered.

"Either you two include me in your conversation, or stop talking please!" Fred said becoming frustrated.

"We'll stop, sorry," I said smiling sweetly. I sent a warning glance to George so he wouldn't bring it up again. He grinned at me, and I hoped that meant he'd keep his mouth shut.

I cleared my throat, deciding to change the topic. "Do you need to copy my Potions notes too?" I asked George.

"Ah Juliet," he said. "You know me too well."

I smirked at him.

"You've become fairly predictable," I said. "You have been my best friend for nearly five years now."

"So I'm your best friend?" he asked.

I smirked. "Sure."

"Even more than Fred?"

I smiled. "Don't tell him I said so, but yes."

I heard an annoyed sigh coming from behind me and turned around to see Fred jumping down from his stool.

"Clearly I'm not wanted here, so I'll catch up with the two of you later," he said in a frustrated tone.

He did not hesitate or wait for a reply as he hurried out of the kitchens. I watched him, my mouth open in surprise.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"If I didn't know any better," George started, "I'd say my brother is jealous of us."

I quirked my eyebrow at George.

"Why on earth would he be jealous of you and me?" I asked.

George rolled his eyes at me.

"Because he fancies you Jules, have you remembered nothing?" he asked.

I ignored that. "But why jealous of you?"

"Apparently he thinks I'm trying to swoop in and take you for myself."

"Are you?" I asked laughing a little.

He looked at me suggestively. I laughed and he smiled.

"I guess I'll have to have a talk with my dear brother. I can't have him thinking I'm out to steal his girl."

* * *

About a week later, Harry had gotten his Firebolt back from Professor McGonagall. It had not been cursed after all, and everyone now wanted to see it. Wood was extremely excited and was eagerly anticipating the next game. He was sure that with Harry's new broom the team was bound to win. His encouragement was less helpful and more frightening, however, as it put a lot of pressure on us to get the job done properly this time.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Wood," I told him as he was giving the team a pep talk the day before our match against Ravenclaw was scheduled.

"Well, the new Ravenclaw Seeker is Cho Chang, and even though she is pretty good, she only rides a Comet Two Sixty. It'll look like a joke next to Harry's Firebolt," Oliver reasoned.

"Let's hope you're right," I said. Although I felt just as sure as the rest of the team that we were going to beat Ravenclaw, I didn't want to get my hopes up too high.

With the presence of the Firebolt, everyone on the team seemed to give extra effort with that night's practice. Harry had caught the Snitch within ten seconds the first time Wood let it out of its case. By the end of the practice, even Wood didn't have anything to criticize, which, George pointed out, was a first.

"I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow!" said Wood. "Not unless—Harry, you've sorted your Dementor problem, haven't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"The Dementors won't turn up again, Oliver, Dumbledore'd do his nut," Fred reassured him confidently.

"Well, let's hope not," Wood replied. "Anyway—good work everyone. Let's get back to the Tower—turn in early…"

The trek back up to the tower after hitting the showers was silent and eerie. The skies were darkening and the heavy clouds looked threatening. The team hurried back up to the castle, casting worried looks up at the sky.

Once we reached Gryffindor Tower, we sat down with Lee, who was waiting for us by the fire. Oliver had encouraged us to head to bed early and get a good long night's sleep, but after an exciting practice we needed some time to wind down.

"Who's the new Seeker for Ravenclaw?" asked Lee once Fred, George and I had settled into spots around the fireplace.

"Cho Chang," I answered.

"Oh, I heard she's good," said Lee.

"Doesn't compare to Harry though," Fred said.

"And she's a girl," George added.

"Excuse me?" I said turning to him with wide eyes.

"Well that's different…" George said looking at me.

"How is that different?" I asked him.

"Um…" he started. He clearly didn't know what to say to rectify his accidental insult. "You know what, I think I'll go up to bed now, like Wood said, we need a good night's sleep."

With that he jumped up from his seat and hurried up to his dormitory.

"Idiot," I said with a laugh. I knew George hadn't meant to insult me.

"Well, I think I'll be off as well," Lee said getting up from his seat. "Night you two."

"Night," Fred and I echoed.

Once Lee had left I let out a yawn and stretched. Feeling rather exhausted as well, I stood up to retire to my dormitory.

"You going too?" asked Fred looking up at me.

"Yeah I think I'd better," I answered. "Big day ahead of us."

"Come on, stay a little longer, I'll be lonely," he said giving me a pathetic look.

"You know that doesn't work on me," I told him as I sat back down next to him.

"Then how come you're staying?" he asked smiling.

"Because," I answered, searching my brain for something to say, but finding nothing.

"Because you can't bear not having me in your presence?" he suggested, putting his arm around me.

"Yeah, that's why," I answered sarcastically.

We sat like that for a few minutes, Fred drawing little circles on my shoulder where his hand rested. It felt nice, and I tried to enjoy it without thinking too much into _why_ it felt so good.

"Can I ask you something?" Fred asked, looking at me seriously.

"Of course," I said, turning towards him, my head resting on his shoulder. I couldn't help but feel flustered by just how close my lips were to his cheek. If he turned his head just a little to the left…

"Do you fancy George?"

The question caught me off-guard, and I stared at him in bewilderment.

"Where on earth did you get that idea?" I asked.

Fred shrugged and looked away. "I just thought I saw something there between the two of you."

I let out a laugh. "Well I'm sorry to tell you, but that's ridiculous."

Fred's features lightened. He smiled at me.

"Well, I'm relieved," he said.

"Oh?"

"I wouldn't want him taking you away from me," he replied simply.

I smiled despite my efforts to resist.

"Well you don't have to worry about that," I said, removing his arm and standing up once again. "Alright, this time I'm really going to bed. I can't stay up any longer or I'll pass out."

Fred looked slightly miffed, but he didn't protest this time…although the look he had in his eyes was just slightly worrisome.

"I'll see you in the morning," I said.

I turned to go up to my dormitory when I felt Fred grab me by the arm and turn me around to face him again.

"What?" I asked, wondering what was so important that it was keeping me from sleeping.

He didn't say anything, but stood up to his full height. His grip on my arm lessened and he slipped his hand down my arm and entwined his fingers with mine. I started to feel my face heat up and I tried to look away, but he grabbed my chin gently with his thumb and forefinger, tilting my head towards him.

I could feel my heart racing in my chest, pounding a mile a minute. I didn't even have time to think about whether I was willing to let this happen or not…he was too close for my brain to work properly. His face was only centimetres from mine…and his breath smelt so intoxicating…

"Hey guys—"

I yanked myself away from Fred as quickly as I could manage and whipped my head around to view who had nearly caught us kissing. It was Lee coming back down the stairs from his dormitory.

"Oh, sorry, was I interrupting something?" he asked with a grin on his face seeing my flushed cheeks. I looked at Fred. He was blushing too and running his hand nervously through his hair.

"Nope," I answered, forcing myself to smile, "I was just going to bed. G'night you two."

I took off at a sprint up the stairs, refusing to look back even as I heard Fred call out to stop me.


	14. Celebration Interrupted

**- CHAPTER FOURTEEN -**

_Celebration Interrupted_

My encounter with Fred was more difficult to ignore than the hand-holding and the flirtatious behavior. I made sure not to bring it up again. I acted as though it had never happened, hoping things would go back to normal. I was far too afraid of acknowledging what had almost happened between us to bring it up. I didn't tell anyone about it, even though Lee had alerted the others to what he had witnessed. Of course, George, Katie, and Alicia all took turns asking me about what had gone on, but I ignored them, acting as though I had no idea what they were talking about.

Fortunately for me, Fred seemed to be doing the same thing. He didn't speak to me about the occurrence, nor did he converse with anyone else about it (as far as I know).

I wasn't sure if I would ever want to talk to Fred about what happened between us, but a distraction arrived swiftly to remove the tension. The never-ending, incredibly difficult Quidditch practices we had been enduring had finally led up to the match against Ravenclaw. I woke up that morning and forced all thoughts of Fred and my personal life out of my mind and focused on the game ahead. There was no sense in me dwelling over stupid feelings while there were more important matters at hand.

At quarter to eleven, after being nearly force-fed our breakfast by an insistent Wood, the Gryffindor team set off for the changing rooms. It was a clear, cool day with a light breeze. That was good news. It would be a lot easier on the players this time, unlike the last game we had played.

Everyone changed in near silence. Alicia and Katie seemed to be trying to psych themselves up. There was a lot of pressure on all of us to win this thing. If we didn't Gryffindor was done.

"You know what we've got to do," Wood said nervously as the team prepared to leave the changing rooms. "If we lose this match, we're out of the running. Just—just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be ok!"

Oliver looked like he was going to be sick as he opened the door and stepped onto the field. If I had been capable of thought at the time I would have felt sorry for him. He looked as though he was more nervous than all of the rest of us combined. Well…that's not entirely true. Harry looked like he could have given him a run for his money.

I pulled my auburn hair back into a ponytail just as we all walked out onto the Quidditch pitch. I noticed two things at once: the gleam of the sun shining overhead and the deafening roar of the crowd as they spotted us.

I looked over at the twins. They looked determined, probably hoping to knock some poor bugger off of their broom with a Bludger. I smiled at the thought and mounted my broom, turning my attention to Madam Hooch. Wood and Davies shook hands, both looking fierce and powerful. The formalities didn't last long, and on Hooch's whistle, both teams kicked off and soared into the air.

I could hear Lee announcing.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt which Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor..."

I tried not to focus on Lee's voice, as I knew it wouldn't help my concentration on the game. I found it was difficult, as in just the first few minutes of the match he was yelled at by Professor McGonagall three times to stop advertising Firebolts and focus on the game.

I blocked Lee's voice out of my mind as he began to dive into a detailed play-by-play of what was going on. Lee's commentating always clearly favoured the Gryffindors, and although it was encouraging, it made it difficult to pay attention if I was attempting to hear him at the same time.

My head was in the game then. I flew alongside Katie, managing to block out one of the Ravenclaw Chasers to allow Kate to score the first goal for Gryffindor. I barely registered the screams of the Gryffindor supporters in the stands.

I had possession of the Quaffle next, after intercepting a pass between the Ravenclaw Keeper and Chasers. I scored two more goals in a short span of about six minutes, and it wasn't long afterwards that Alicia and Katie managed to get in a few more to bring our lead up to eighty points.

I played my position well, concentrating on blocking, passing, and scoring. I chanced a quick look up to find Harry, and saw him trying to escape Cho Chang. She was tailing him very closely.

I cursed myself for my momentary lapse of attention, as Ravenclaw managed to sneak a goal past Wood, making it their third goal of the game.

I vowed not to become distracted again, but quickly broke that promise as I hear Harry let out a loud scream. I wasn't sure what exactly he had said, but jerked my head up to see what was wrong.

I looked up just in time to see his fingers clasp around the golden Snitch, but that isn't what surprised me most. Harry's other arm was outstretched, and from his wand an enormous, fluid silvery object was flowing.

I did a double-take to check and make sure I was seeing things right. Harry had preformed a Patronus! I looked around frantically, wondering why I hadn't felt any Dementors nearby, only to see that there weren't any around.

I spent a few moments in bewildered confusion as I scanned the grounds around the Quidditch pitch in search of the dark hooded figures, only to find none.

When my thoughts snapped back to reality I quickly noticed I was the only one still in the air.

I heard Madam Hooch sound the whistle and with lightning speed I flew back down to meet the rest of my teammates on the ground.

Everyone was on Harry in an instant. Alicia and Katie kissed him on the cheek, causing him to flush a deep red. Enjoying his embarrassment, I followed suit, planting a sloppy kiss on him as well. He was alight with excitement, and didn't even object when Fred and George decided to give him a kiss of their own. He was clearly embarrassed, but the grin on his face never faded.

As Oliver took his turn congratulating Harry I felt myself being lifted off the ground.

It didn't take me long to realize it was Fred who had grabbed hold of me, and I clutched at his shoulders joyfully.

I couldn't even hear my own laughter as the rest of the Gryffindor house filed down to the field. All comprehensible sound was lost, and all that was left was a deafening roar of celebration.

Fred spun me around, making me feel dizzy. I didn't stop laughing although I felt I may be sick if he continued.

"Alright, you can put me down now," I yelled, though I was grinning from ear to ear.

He let me go very suddenly, and I only just managed to land on my feet. George grabbed me next, enveloping me in a hug from behind. He placed a huge sloppy wet kiss on my cheek, leaving me wiping my face on my Quidditch robes.

I'm not sure exactly how long we all stayed out there, hugging and cheering and celebrating, but the party was eventually moved up to the Gryffindor common room, allowing the real festivities to begin properly.

As the traditional post-game celebration began to get started, Fred and George yanked me out of the room. I barely had enough time to change out of my sweaty Quidditch robes and into something more decent before the newly-dressed twins ambushed me on the stairs and tugged me out of the common room.

"Where are we going?" I asked them, laughing from all of the excitement.

"To pick up a few things," George answered, and I immediately understood what he meant. Of course, we were going to sneak into Hogsmeade. I wondered vaguely why we didn't just keep a supply sitting around here…

"Alright," I answered grinning. I took a running start and jumped on Fred's back. He caught me, but barely, not expecting me to be clinging onto his shoulders.

He let out a sound of surprise, and then laughed. The sound was buoyant and cheerful, and it bounced back at us off of the castle walls.

"Will you please be quiet?" George asked turning to look at us as Fred and I laughed uncontrollably. "You're going to attract attention!"

"Sorry," I said between breaths. I kissed Fred on the cheek and slid down off of his back.

Fred slipped his arm around me as George led the way through secret doorways and passageways. I was in such a good mood that it didn't even bother me how much I loved the feel of having Fred close to me. I didn't worry even a tiny bit about the third degree George was surely going to give me later.

It didn't seem to take us long to get to Hogsmeade, although I was sure we had been gone much longer than it felt. We were in a hurry, and grabbed anything and everything we thought would do before we turned to run back to the castle.

The party was still going strong when we got back, and everyone seemed to get even louder when we handed out candy and drinks to everyone inside the crowded common room.

Although I was elated that Gryffindor won the match, and although the party went on late into the night, I opted to bow out of the festivities early to do some of my homework. Normally it's totally unlike me to let homework win over fun and excitement, but I think the OWL prospect had me just a little bit on edge. Even though the twins weren't worried about schoolwork, I had to admit I was a bit worried about mine.

So, while the party was still in full swing, I pulled a chair into a corner of the common room to finish an essay about the moons of Jupiter. I wasn't the only one doing so, either. Hermione was also huddled over a stack of books. She had been doing that a lot this year. In fact, she looked even more stressed out than all of the other students. It was kind of stupid to be working while everyone else in the room was being rowdy and loud, but fun-loving Juliet inside of me didn't want to leave for fear I'd miss something exciting.

My Jupiter moon essay for Astronomy was proving to be near impossible, and my irritation level was skyrocketing when I was interrupted.

"What are you doing?"

I looked up and saw Fred hovering over me with a look of confusion and amusement on his face. I wasn't really surprised. How often do you find someone who is not Hermione Granger doing homework during a party?

"Finishing homework," I answered blandly.

Fred snorted and conjured a chair on the other side of the small table I was working on.

"Why?" he asked incredulously.

I shrugged, looking back down at the progress I'd made so far. "With all of Wood's practices I haven't had much time to do my work," I told him.

"So?" he said.

I scoffed. "You may not care if you flunk out of school," I said, "but I'd prefer to graduate thank you very much."

Fred rolled his eyes at me. "Well I have no idea why you're worrying about it now. You've got all day tomorrow to do school work, and even if you didn't, you'd still pass the OWLs without a problem."

"Even if that were true, I'd still prefer to not have to worry about this anymore. At this rate I'll fail Astronomy, and I've already got Snape on my case about missed schoolwork or my deteriorating Potions grade," I said.

"But you've got to do it now while we're all celebrating?" he questioned. His voice was pleading—almost pouting in an attempt to sway me.

I shut my Astronomy book loudly and placed my assignment back in my book bag.

"That's my girl," Fred said happily.

I shook my head. "No. I'm just packing up because McGonagall is going to be up here any minute telling us all to go to bed," I told him.

"How do you know?" he challenged.

"I can sense it," I told him. "So I'm heading up to bed. Would you mind giving me a hand with the Potions assignment tomorrow?"

I gave him the sweetest pleading smile I could muster and batted my eyelashes at him.

He rolled his eyes at me, but he was smiling widely as he did it.

"Yeah, I'll give it a shot," he said. "From my experience you usually need more help than anyone can give."

I glared at him, giving him a shove as I headed for the girls' staircase.

"I'll see you in the morning," I called over my shoulder.

I headed up the stairs to my dormitory, intent on sleeping now that it was well past midnight. I reached my room and pushed the door open just as the unmistakeable sound of Professor McGonagall's voice travelled up the stairs, demanding that everyone go to bed.

* * *

I woke up with a start in the middle of the night, sitting upright in my bed so suddenly that my head spun when I opened my eyes. My heart was pounding in fear at what I had just heard. It sounded like someone was screaming.

"What was that?" I hissed into the darkness. I could hear the other girls stirring in their beds. They must have heard the scream too.

"A scream?" Alicia said groggily as Katie's wand tip illuminated.

"One of the boys," Katie said. "It didn't come from this side of the tower."

I threw the covers off of my legs and slid off the bed and onto the cold tile floor.

"Where are you going?" Alicia asked, peering at me through the dim lighting from both her and Katie's wands.

"To find out what's going on," I said, hurriedly grabbing my wand and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

I heard rustling as the two of them pulled themselves out of their beds. I could hear yelling coming from the common room now, and was certain something was wrong.

I pushed my way out of the dormitory with the two girls following me close behind. We made our way down to the common room to see Harry and Ron yelling at each other over something.

I lowered my wand. I assumed neither of the boys was going to hex us.

"Are you _sure _you weren't dreaming Ron?" Harry asked.

"I'm telling you, I saw him!"

"What's all the noise?" I asked them, squinting into the darkness. The fire was still going, but it had died down substantially. The room was quite dark.

"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!" someone else yelled, and I could hear footsteps coming down the stairs from the boys dormitories.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" I recognized this voice as Fred's…although it could have been George. It was hard to tell when I couldn't see them.

"No," I called over to them. "Your brother and his boyfriend are fighting over something."

"Everyone back upstairs!" This time it was Percy yelling as he hurried into the room. In the dim light I could see him pin his Head Boy badge to his pyjamas.

The common room was bustling with noise as people entered the room from the staircases. Wand tips illuminated everywhere, and the room was lit up very suddenly.

"Perce- Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

Everyone froze. The common room went completely silent. I cast a nervous look at Katie and Alicia, who returned it, looking sceptical.

"Nonsense!" Percy said. "You had too much to eat, Ron—had a nightmare, that's all—"

"I'm telling you!"

"Now, really, that's enough!"

Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around at the lot of us.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!" she yelled, causing several of the younger students to cower.

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" Percy said. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare—"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled, making me jump. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Professor McGonagall stared at him, so did everyone else in the room. He was clearly terrified…but it couldn't have been Black…how would he get in?

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have got through the portrait hole?" Professor McGonagall said calmly, though I thought I heard a slight quiver of fear in her voice.

I could feel the intensity in the room as Fred crept up behind me. I turned to look at him, but he was still staring at his possibly delusional brother.

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw—"

Professor McGonagall immediately pushed the portrait back open and went outside. There was silence again in the common room, as all of its occupants held their breath, listening for Sir Cadogan's reply.

"Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence from everyone in the common room, as well as from Professor McGonagall. I could almost sense the tingles running up everyone's spine at that exact moment. It was an unpleasant and eerie sensation.

"You—you _did?_" said Professor McGonagall finally. "But—but the password!"

"He had 'em!" answered Sir Cadogan. "He had the whole week's my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

"Oh my god," I whispered, shocked.

Several murmurs ran through the room, and I instinctively reached out and took Fred's hand. He gripped mine back firmly, and we waited for Professor McGonagall's next words.

"Which person," Professor McGonagall started, her voice shaking with fear and anger, "which _abysmally foolish_ person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to toe, raised his hand slowly into the air.

* * *

None of the Gryffindors slept that night. We all knew that the castle was being searched again. No one was feeling brave enough to head back up to their dormitory. Instead, every single person stayed in the common room, nearly everyone remaining wide awake and silent.

I cuddled myself up next to Fred in the corner of the room. George, Katie, Alicia, and Lee were huddled there too, just like the last time Black had been seen at the school.

"You can sleep if you want," Fred said, holding me tightly, "I'll wake you."

I shook my head slowly. There was no way in hell I would be able to sleep right now. My mind was working a mile a minute, bringing me back to the beginning of the year once more. Peter Pettigrew's name had been on the Marauder's Map, I'm sure of it. And now Sirius was attacking Ron. Was he looking for Harry? Is Pettigrew still alive? What the hell was going on?

That night I swore to myself that I would investigate what was going on. I needed to get my hands on the Marauder's Map again. Something strange was happening at Hogwarts, and I needed to find out what.

Professor McGonagall returned at dawn, to tell the students that Sirius Black had, yet again, escaped.


	15. Difficulties and Surprises

**- CHAPTER FIFTEEN -**

_Difficulties and Surprises_

The next day there were signs everywhere of tighter security. Professor Flitwick had taught the front doors to recognize a picture of Sirius Black. Filch could be seen going up and down the corridors, boarding up even the slightest cracks in the walls. Sir Cadogan's portrait had been taken down, and the Fat Lady was back.

She had been expertly restored, but she was still a bit nervous after her encounter with Sirius Black. She had only agreed to come back if she had extra protection. Thus, a group of security trolls had been hired by Professor Dumbledore to guard her. They paced the corridor in a group, talking in grunts and comparing the sizes of their clubs.

The only entrances to the castle that were not being protected were those that the staff did not know about. Aside from myself, Fred, George, Lee, and now Harry, Ron, and Hermione, there seemed to be no one who knew about them. Unless they had access to the Marauder's Map, I was positive no one would find out about them either.

I had briefly thought of telling someone about the passageways, but most were already blocked off, and Black would certainly not be entering the castle through the Honeydukes cellar…or at least I didn't think he would be. It would be incredibly risky for him to do so.

I ultimately decided against alerting the teachers. I wasn't sure exactly why, but I honestly didn't think it was necessary. My mind was much more focused on trying to figure out the mystery of Peter Pettigrew's appearance on the map than anything else.

My mind had wandered in and out of focus during the course of the day. As Fred, George, and I sat in the common room I could vaguely hear Ron babbling on about his encounter with Black. The bloke would tell anyone who would listen about what had happened, and the twins were getting severely irritated.

"He's obviously enjoying the attention," Fred said rolling his eyes as Ron's story became more and more ridiculous every time he told it. I allowed my mind to float back into reality.

"Well, I'm not surprised, he's got Harry as a best friend, and you two as his brothers," I pointed out. "Everyone around him is always getting attention, he's probably just happy that it's finally his turn."

"Why are you defending him?" George asked with a look of disgust on his face.

"Well, someone has to," I told them, suppressing a yawn as I doodled on the edges of my homework. Fred had made good on his deal and helped me finish my Potions essay. It wasn't the greatest, as my thoughts were definitely elsewhere, but it was better than I could have done on my own.

I shoved my books away from me, putting my completed essay back in my bag. I had been kicking around my idea to snatch the Marauder's Map away from Harry for a while now, and I was eager to get a move on. It wouldn't be difficult. He'd probably have it up in his dormitory somewhere. All I would have to do is sneak up while no one was around and take it. Then I'd be able to solve this bizarre mystery.

"Do you have time to help us with the Vanishing spell?" George asked, twirling his wand carelessly in his fingers.

I crinkled up my nose in annoyance. It would be hard to go mystery hunting with Fred and George breathing down my neck. I did not intend to tell them about what I had observed, nor did I want them to know what I had planned. If it turned out I was wrong and I have some sort of brain defect then I'd rather they not find out and have me committed.

"Uh, sure," I said. I would have to wait until dinner or another time when no one was in Gryffindor Tower to steal the map anyway. I might as well do something productive until then.

"Mind if we go now?" Fred asked, standing up and stretching. I forced myself not to let my eyes wander to where his shirt was riding up enough for me to see his toned body underneath.

Hastily, I gathered all of my things and hurried up to my room, depositing everything on my too-messy bed. I would put it on my list of things I would have to deal with later.

Fred and George were waiting expectantly for me at the bottom of the stairs with their wands in hand.

"We ready?" I asked, pushing past the two of them. I figured the best place to practice the spell would be in an empty classroom. There wouldn't be anything to damage in there. We would normally have gone outside, but the teachers were (understandably) extremely nervous about allowing students outdoors unsupervised.

Professor McGonagall gladly gave us permission to use an empty classroom across from her own. She seemed a bit surprised to see the three of us wanting to practice school work—and during a weekend, no less—but she was pleased that the boys seemed to be taking initiative. We made a quick stop at the kitchens before heading for her classroom to borrow three goblets from the house elf staff. They were quick to give us all snacks as well, and we munched as we made our way to Professor McGonagall's empty room.

I was completely out of my element as I set up a method of practice for the twins. I chose a desk and placed the three goblets down, along with the cauldron cakes and tarts the house elves had given us.

"Alright," I told them, feeling extraordinarily foolish at the idea of playing teacher, "take a goblet to practice with."

The twins did as they were told, each whisking a goblet off to a separate desk. I took the last one to show them how to do the spell properly.

I transfigured the goblet easily into a chirping fairy, and instructed them to do the same. Both of them were rubbish at it, but I felt obligated to help them after Fred had so kindly re-written my Potions assignment for me.

"Fred," I said, "it's more of a poke of the wand, not a flick."

"You're starting to sound like McGonagall," Fred muttered as he managed to make his goblet grow wings. He was frustrated, and I was frightened to realize I found it cute.

"I know," I said crinkling my nose at the thought, "It's scaring me."

The twins proved to be quick learners when they put their minds to it. Both of them managed to make rather ugly-looking fairies the same colour as their goblets had been. Impressed with them, we continued to work at it until they had both mastered the spell. It took just over an hour.

"Why on earth can't you pay this much attention in class?" I asked, bewildered by how easy the spell seemed to come to them now. "It would save us all so much time!"

"Maybe it's not our fault," George suggested.

"Yeah, maybe it's McGonagall," Fred agreed. "You're just a better teacher than her I reckon."

I smirked at him, rolling my eyes as I tucked the chairs back under the desks. The three of us were preparing to leave when something caught my eye.

I squinted out of the window and into the trees outside and made out the figure of what looked like a large dog. I took a step closer to get a better look at the thing, but it vanished almost as soon as I had spotted it.

I took a few more steps toward the window, searching for the dark shadowy object that had ducked into the trees.

"Juliet," George said from behind me, "You coming?"

I tore my gaze away from the window and turned to face the boys. They were eyeing me with curiosity in their eyes.

"What are you doing?" Fred questioned, quirking his eyebrow at me.

"Nothing," I said quickly.

I joined the two of them at the door, casting one last look toward the window where I was certain I saw two dim eyes staring out from the forest.

* * *

Stealing the Marauder's Map from Harry didn't go as smoothly as I had planned. That night Harry had decided to skip dinner and instead stay in the common room. This caused difficulties, as I certainly wasn't going to be able to sneak past him and up to his dormitory without him asking some questions.

The next night proved just as exasperating. I had made it up to his dormitory and spent nearly fifteen minutes searching through his belongings only to find that the map was not there. I searched for as long as I dared before heading back to my room empty handed.

On the third day I had planned to give it a go one last time after classes ended. I was seated in Transfiguration class absentmindedly vanishing objects for Professor McGonagall's next lesson. The boys had all managed to get away without being assigned extra homework because of their success with producing fairies. My mind was extraordinarily distracted by my plans for try number three at snagging the map, so I barely registered the praise I was receiving from Professor McGonagall.

"Hey, how large of an object do you think you'd be able to make disappear?" asked Fred from beside me.

"I dunno, why?" I mumbled, staring off into space.

"Because, if you keep this up, soon you'll be able to get rid of Snape," he answered cheerfully.

"Or you…" I suggested.

"Ha, ha," Fred replied sarcastically.

"I have the power to," I told him.

"Yeah, well you wouldn't," Fred said confidently.

"How would you know?" I asked him.

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Professor McGonagall dismissing the class. I grinned to myself at the sound of the dismissal. Soon would be my third—and hopefully final—attempt at stealing the map from Harry.

Fred and I stood up to join George and Lee as they exited the classroom, only to be stopped by Professor McGonagall.

"Juliet, may I have a word with you?" she asked, taking me completely by surprise.

I quirked my eyebrow at her. I wasn't sure what surprised me more…the fact that she wanted to speak to me, or that she referred to me as Juliet. She almost always addressed me as "Miss Christie".

I stopped in front of her desk as the boys shot me confused looks. I shrugged at them and they trudged out of the room without me, leaving me alone with McGonagall as everyone else in the class filed out.

"Have a seat," she told me, waving her hand toward a chair sitting in front of her desk.

I sat down and looked at her, confused. My mind was running through anything I could have done to get me into trouble. I came up blank. Recently I hadn't been doing much trouble-making.

"You have nothing to look so worried about," she reassured me seeing the look on my face, "you're not in any trouble."

"What?" I asked. "Then what am I here for?"

She gave me an un-amused look.

"As you know, you are quite exceptional at Transfiguration," she said with a small smile on her lips, "more than exceptional. There is no doubt in my mind that you will be able to achieve an 'Outstanding' in your OWL."

The feeling of confusion deepened further. _She wants to talk to me about my grades?_

"Professor Dumbledore and I have been talking, and we have decided that you are the best student that we've had in this class in many years," she continued.

I stared at her, feeling completely dumbfounded. _I _was the best Transfiguration student? How could that be? I was good, sure, but the best? And why on earth would she want to talk to me about my grades if I was doing well?

"So," she pressed on, "we have decided, that if you should accept, that it would be extremely worthwhile for you to learn how to become an Animagus."

She paused and I stared at her disbelievingly. An Animagus? That was extremely advanced magic. I didn't even know students could have that kind of opportunity.

"Miss Christie?" she asked, seeing my look of shock.

"A-Are you serious Professor?" I asked her, baffled by her statement.

"Of course I am. Do you think I would joke about something like this?" she asked.

"No," I said quickly.

She gave me a small smile and continued.

"If you choose to learn how to become one, we would alert the Ministry at once. We have already talked to your parents about it. They think that it would be a wonderful experience for you, and feel that you should take this opportunity. We have scheduled a time for them to come and talk to Professor Dumbledore and myself about the subject, if you choose to accept. You already have an extremely bright future ahead of you, but this could change your life forever. What do you think?" she asked seeing that I still had a baffled look on my face.

"I think it's unbelievable Professor," I answered. "But I had no idea that this could even be an option for students."

"It isn't common," she told me. "There are only a handful of registered Animagi in Britain to begin with. It is extremely complex magic, but Professor Dumbledore suggests we do our best to help bright students achieve the most they can while at Hogwarts. This has never been attempted within the castle walls before."

"So… why me?" I asked.

"As I've said, you are the most talented Transfiguration student this school has seen in years. We are offering you this opportunity because we think you could succeed. I, myself being an Animagus, strongly recommend you taking this road," she told me. "It is an extraordinary gift to have."

"I'd love to," I answered suddenly.

There was nothing to think about. This was an amazing opportunity and I needed no time to think about it. Who wouldn't say yes?

Professor McGonagall's smile reached the crinkles of her eyes. She looked very pleased.

"Good. Now, the more you understand Transfiguration, and the better you are at it, the less time it will take you to become an Animagus," she told me looking me.

"I would like you to read this book." She took out an ancient-looking book from beneath a pile of parchment on her desk and handed it to me. "It will explain everything that you will have to go through, and you should be able to figure out how long it will take you to complete the process."

I nodded and took the book from her. My mind was swimming with excitement and disbelief.

"You are to complete the reading so you have a full understanding about what you are doing. Unfortunately you will not be able to choose the animal you will be transformed into. They are assigned to the person based on their personality."

"My personality?" I asked. "How do they choose that? Do all Animagi have to go through that?"

"The Ministry carefully monitors Animagi," she told me. "Anyone wishing to become one must register, and they are assigned an animal based on their personality. This allows for an easier transformation."

"About how long will it take Professor?" I asked her, stuttering slightly. This was a big deal.

"Well, with your knowledge and understanding, I would hope that you would have learned it before the end of next year, if not sooner. That is, of course, if you continue over the summer with the program. Like I said, the more you understand it, and the more effort you put into the process, the less time it takes," she replied.

I nodded and smiled as the realization of what was going on sinking in.

"Would you be the one teaching me?" I asked her.

"Yes, though it doesn't require much learning, once you understand it. The hard part is actually being able to complete the final transformation." She explained.

"Alright…" I said slowly, not really knowing what to say next.

"It is a wonderful gift, and I'm sure you would enjoy it. I will make one suggestion though," she said.

"Yes Professor?" I asked her.

"I don't think it would be wise for you to be telling all of this to everyone, especially at the moment. Perhaps it would be best if you only told a select few about this, and if you could possibly wait until it is finalized," she said smiling.

"Of course Professor," I told her. I really had no intention of telling anyone other than the twins, and maybe Lee about this. It would be much more fun to lurk around undetected.

"That will be all for today, Miss Christie," she said kindly. "We will have a further meeting when you've finished the reading."

I smiled again. "Thank you Professor and I will be sure not to let this slip," I told her, smiling mischievously. I got up from my seat with the book in hand and hurried to the door.

"And that includes the Weasley twins especially," she called to me as I left the room.

I smiled to myself as I practically skipped down the corridors to the Great Hall for dinner…having completely forgotten about my mission to steal the Marauder's Map from Harry's room. The elation I was feeling from McGonagall's announcement had me completely deterred from my original path. It seemed it was going to take much more effort than I had anticipated to solve this mystery.

I now couldn't wait until my parents came to the school so I could talk to someone about it. I had only known of this for a few minutes and already I was itching to tell someone.

Realizing that I was still holding the book Professor McGonagall had given me, I quickly shoved it into my book bag just as I entered the Great Hall.

I quickly made my way to the Gryffindor table. I was extremely hungry having missed the first fifteen minutes of the feast.

"Hey, what did McGonagall want?" Fred asked as me as I sat down across from him.

"Oh, just wanted to talk to me about my essay," I told him, fully aware that I must look extremely suspicious, grinning so widely. "She said that if I keep up my studies, that I will be able to achieve an 'Outstanding' in Transfiguration," I added seeing their disbelieving faces.

"Is that all?" Lee asked. "I could've told you that," he said.

Fred and George exchanged suspicious glances before turning back to their food.

I smiled at all three of them and started eating, now extremely happy, despite both the Animagus and Map-stealing homework that waited for me.


	16. Unspoken

**- CHAPTER SIXTEEN –**

_Unspoken_

I spent the next two days during my spare time reading over the book Professor McGonagall had given to me. It explained that with my personality it would be more suitable for me to become a Muggle creature. Most wizards and witches chose to become Muggle creatures anyway, and I was hoping to be assigned an animal along those lines as well. As the book was written by a British author, it also gave suggestions based on the Houses that witches or wizards were in while attending Hogwarts. I made sure to pay attention to the section devoted to Gryffindor-suited animals. The book also explained how it would feel to be an animal, as well as stressing the importance of following the steps involved very carefully. It also taught me that a person can only learn how to become one animal because humans are only able to have two sets of DNA without them mixing together. While going through the process of drinking portions of potion every day side effects would occur. Because of the animal DNA being housed in my body, I was to experience, on occasion, strange, animal-like urges. These side effects would last only until my mind learned to separate my human self from my animal self. Professor McGonagall was going to help with this. Apparently there was a spell involved to allow the separate DNA to remain the same body, but the most difficult part of the entire process was learning how to keep my mind functioning properly.

After finishing the book, which didn't take long considering my interest in the subject, Professor McGonagall told me that I had been assigned a creature. The animal chosen to best suit my needs was a cat. If it is possible, this news made me even more excited. A cat would never raise suspicion as domestic cats roamed around on their own without so much as a second glance from a viewer. This would make it easy for me to spy on people and lurk around unsuspected. Also, my parents would likely approve of it. My family lived in a Muggle town. A cat would blend in to the surroundings quite nicely.

"What are you looking so pleased about?"

I looked up and saw Fred standing over me as I lay on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. I had been sitting alone daydreaming since classes ended and had hardly noticed when Fred had switched over to my side of the room, leaving a rowdy George and Lee alone in the corner.

"Nothing," I answered with a grin. I had been having a hard time keeping my promise to Professor McGonagall. It was difficult to keep such a big secret from my best mates.

I sat up, allowing Fred to sit down next to me. He sat down and pulled me towards him, slipping his arm around my neck. I tried my best not to flush up at his proximity and leaned slightly away from him.

"You've been a lot more cheerful than usual these past few days," he said, eyeing me suspiciously as he twirled the ends of my hair in his fingers.

"Really?" I asked, "I haven't noticed."

Fred stared at me for a moment, a look of deep thought on his face.

"You know, I've been pretty happy lately too," he said. The pondering look was still in his eyes.

I looked sideways over at him. "You have?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered, pushing the hair away from the side of my face. He suddenly seemed very serious and the atmosphere between the two of us shifted dramatically. "I'm not sure, but maybe it's for the same reason you're so cheerful."

My eyes widened and I felt my pace quicken. This was neither the time nor the place for Fred to be having such conversations with me.

"Um… actually, I don't think it is," I said carefully. I didn't want to offend him, but I by no means was going to start talking about feelings while the common room was littered with students. I was sure Fred was dropping a hint. It sounded as though he was about to share that I was having a positive effect on his happiness.

Fred frowned a little and surveyed me with a confused expression.

"Oh?" he said, and I could see him force a cheeky grin onto his face. "Then what's up?"

"It's nothing," I said, feeling unnerved by the quick change in his demeanor.

"Come on Juliet," he said. "I know something is going on. You can tell me."

"No, but I really can't," I told him with a frown. "And why would my being cheerful lead you to believe that something out of the ordinary is going on?"

"You're my best mate," he said. "I know when you're keeping something from me. So cough up, what's on your mind?"

"I'll tell you later," I said truthfully. I had to wait for Professor McGonagall's go-ahead before I could share my secret with Fred and George.

"Fine then," he said, removing his arm from around me and shoving me playfully aside.

"Bloody hell Fred, you drama queen," I said, rubbing the spot on my arm where he had pushed me.

"Now now, Juliet," Fred said, pointing to the far end of the sofa. "If you don't want to tell me you can sit over there."

I rolled my eyes. I knew that he was joking. He was just trying to get under my skin. Fred always needed to have his way… and it was working.

"Fred! I'm sorry, but I can't tell you," I said moving over beside him and placing my hand on his arm. His eyes moved momentarily to my face to where my hand was resting. He shifted and grabbed it, taking hold of it in his Quidditch-calloused palm.

I flushed and stared down at my hand in his.

"Alright, now you've got me worried," he said lightly. "What's up?"

"Honestly, I want to tell you, but I swore I wouldn't," I said, mulling it over in my head. I couldn't tell him without ensuring the Ministry had given me the go-ahead. I would feel like a right dunderhead if I told Fred and George only to have to admit later that it wasn't going to happen.

"Why not?" he asked. He no longer sounded playful. He actually looked quite put-out.

I bit down on my bottom lip and stared at him for a minute. I really _did_ want to tell him about what was going on. It was getting hard to keep it to myself, and the way Fred was looking at me was making it even more difficult. I wasn't sure whether it was his intention to make me feel guilty with his hurt expression, but it was happening regardless.

"You know what?" I said, trying to shake the weird feeling that had settled over the two of us. "I'll be right back."

I pulled my hand out of his grasp and got up from my seat, heading towards the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Where are you going?" he asked, watching me go.

"I'll be back," I repeated.

I pushed my way out of the portrait door and hurried down the corridor. I nearly jumped down the flights of stairs on my way to Professor McGonagall's office. Portraits were muttering about the racket I was making as I passed by. There were very few students out and about with all of the Sirius Black scares. The only time the corridors were busy was between classes.

When I got to Professor McGonagall's office I was out of breath. I didn't even hesitate before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Professor McGonagall was seated at her desk, straightening a pile of essays. She looked up abruptly when I opened the door, looking startled.

"Miss Christie," she said sternly. "It would be more polite to knock."

"Er—sorry, Professor," I said, letting myself into the room without an invitation. I had been inside only once before. It had been when I had attended Quidditch tryouts in my second year, during which I had gotten so angry with George for purposely trying to sabotage me that I hit him over the head with my broom. He had blacked out, and I was sent to have a chat with McGonagall about the proper use of a broomstick. It ultimately ended in Professor McGonagall suggesting I remain a reserve player rather than part of the main team. I had never really forgiven George for that setback. It took me ages to get my own spot on the official Gryffindor team.

I glanced around the office as Professor McGonagall pulled out an official envelope and opened it up. Her office was simple and neat. She didn't fuss around with personal objects but had many books and interesting-looking objects. Everything had its own place. I wondered vaguely if many other professors were as organized as Professor McGonagall seemed to be.

"Ehem, Miss Christie."

My attention was brought back to Professor McGonagall, who was looking at me with impatience written across her face.

"Now that you're here I may as well tell you," she said, standing up. She handed me the letter that she had just opened. "I have received an owl from the Ministry of Magic. They have given their approval, and we are now free to proceed with your Animagus procedure."

She gave me a small smile as my lips cracked into a grin. I stared down at the parchment in my hand. My eyes moved from the official Ministry seal at the top, down to the swirly signature from the Minister of Magic at the bottom. My heart jumped into my throat with excitement.

"Does that mean I can tell Fred and George?" I asked, looking up from the parchment. I blushed a little under her gaze. I hadn't really intended to blurt out why I had run to her office. I didn't want her to think I was aching to brag.

McGonagall pursed her lips into a firm line. "You may tell whomever you wish," she answered. "But I do encourage you to ensure that the Weasley twins understand this is a great responsibility. Being an Animagus is not something to be taken lightly." She paused momentarily and then seemed to conclude that I could also use a warning. "You would do well to remember that too, Miss Christie," she said.

"Of course not, Professor," I said. "It's only—they've been asking and it's been a bit… difficult—" I smiled sheepishly at her and was surprised to see her smiling back at me.

"I understand the anticipation, Miss Christie," she told me. "I was in your shoes once before, you'll remember. Now, do run along—straight back to your common room, please. You shouldn't even be out right now. Consider this a warning."

"Yes—er—thanks, Professor."

She nodded curtly and I shouldered my way back out of the office, nearly skipping as I made my way back to Gryffindor tower. I hurried through the corridors—narrowly avoiding treading on Mrs. Norris as I went—and burst back through the portrait hole door, still clutching the letter in my hand.

Fred was still seated in the same spot I had left him in, and George was situated in the armchair opposite.

"That was fast," Fred commented as I reclaimed my seat next to him. "Where did you go?"

"To see Professor McGonagall," I answered.

"What for?" George asked dully as he picked at a spot on his skin.

"I wanted to tell you something," I said, dropping my voice so I wouldn't be overheard by others lingering in the room.

"And you needed to talk it over with McGonagall first?" George questioned, looking skeptical.

"Actually, yes," I said and George frowned, looking infinitely more interested.

"Why?" he asked.

"Are you ready to spill now?" Fred encouraged.

"Only if you promise not to tell anyone," I said, letting seriousness colour my expression. It wasn't entirely necessary. Of everyone I knew Fred and George were the two people I could trust explicitly.

George made a cross over his heart and Fred nodded, looking both confused and interested.

I grinned and handed my letter to Fred. He took it, and he and George bent their heads to read it together. I watched their eyes skim back and forth over the parchment until they reached the bottom. Wide-eyed and mouths agape, they looked back up at me when they had finished.

"Are you serious?" George asked, a smile spreading across his face. He waved the letter at me as though waiting for me to admit it was all a joke.

"Of course I'm serious," I said with a grin. I made sure to keep my voice down and encouraged the twins to do the same. I didn't want anyone overhearing our conversation.

"How did this happen?" George asked.

"Remember that day McGonagall wanted to speak with me after class?" I said. The twins nodded. "Well she told me about it then. Apparently Dumbledore is trying to encourage students to seek opportunities beyond the usual realm of wizarding education."

"And they chose you?" George said, pretending to be upset. "Why on earth wouldn't they ask one of us?"

"I reckon we're not qualified as responsible students," Fred said. He was speaking to George, but his eyes were on me. His lips broke into a smile that made butterflies flutter in my stomach.

"So you've had to register with the Ministry," George said, scanning my letter once more. "And you have to report your markings to them when the transformation is complete."

"What's the animal?" Fred questioned.

"A cat," I said. "I didn't get to choose—they picked based on my personality. I guess we won't know what I'll really look like until I transform for the first time."

"A cat?" George asked. "Like McGonagall? Does that mean you have a similar personality to her?"

"Doubtful," Fred said with a slightly disturbed expression on his face. "I think their system's a bit flawed."

"So how long will it take?" George questioned. The three of us were leaning very close together now. The other students in the room would probably think we were concocting some sort of scheme. It wouldn't be the first time.

"McGonagall is hoping by the end of next year, if not sooner," I told them.

"Brilliant," they said together.

"Do you realize what this will mean for us?" George said. "We can have a constant security system in place, involving Juliet has a lookout."

I shook my head. "Just because I will be able to disguise myself does not mean I will want to be constantly on lookout. I hate being the lookout."

George waved his hand airily. "We'll figure it out later."

Fred looked down at his watch and said quite suddenly, "I'm feeling peckish. Juliet, will you come down to the kitchens with me?"

"Oh—er, yeah… sure, Fred," I said, feeling taken aback by the sudden change of topic. "George?"

George opened his mouth to say something, but fell silent when Fred looked pointedly at him. I had an alarming feeling that they were communicating something that they didn't want me to hear.

"Nah, I've got business to tend to with Lee," he said in a would-be casual voice. "I'll see you two later. Congrats, Jules."

He gave me a warm smile and a clap on the shoulder as Fred tugged me up from my seat and led me out of the common room.

Fred and I walked in awkward silence for a few minutes before I spoke.

"What's up?" I asked.

He started, as if I had interrupted a deep thought.

"What do you mean?" he replied.

"I know you didn't pull me out of the common room to go down to the kitchens," I said. I had noticed Fred was not leading me in the direction of the kitchens at all, but instead seemed to be wandering rather aimlessly through the corridors. This was a dangerous thing to be doing, as students weren't really supposed to be out now that security was so tight.

He gave me a lopsided grin.

"Too obvious," he said and I nodded in agreement. He shrugged and took my hand. "I just needed a walk and thought we could have some alone time."

I was careful not to look at him as we continued down the corridor. Fred and I seemed to be tiptoeing around an awful lot of unspoken emotion lately, and I wasn't proud to admit that I was frightened of facing the moment where everything was brought out into the open. I wasn't very good with that sort of thing.

"So an Animagus," he said, breaking the awkward tension that was creeping up around the two of us.

I let out a breathy laugh. My nerves were certainly starting to show. I hoped Fred would take it as excitement over my announcement rather than see that he was the real reason I was getting so jittery.

"It feels very surreal," I admitted.

He paused briefly and I could feel his eyes on me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. My eyes snapped to his.

"I did tell you," I said stupidly. Obviously that's not what he had meant.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? When I asked you why McGonagall wanted to talk to you after class that day?" he clarified.

"I wanted to wait until it was official," I said.

He nodded and seemed to accept this as fair.

"I still would have told you," he said with a half-smile so I knew he wasn't really placing blame. "I tell you everything."

"No you don't," I blurted out unthinkingly. My mind flashed with the image of Fred holding the Perception Putty models of the two of us together. No, there were certain things Fred kept to himself.

Fred looked at me in a way that made me fear he somehow knew what I was thinking about. My heart skipped a beat and I suddenly realized we had stopped walking. Instead we were standing in the middle of a dark, deserted corridor, staring at each other.

"Sure I do," he said quietly. "I've always told you everything, just…maybe not always in words."

As he was speaking Fred squeezed my hand tightly. I had a feeling it was more meaningful than a simple twitch. Goosebumps spread over my body and I felt inexplicably torn. I had a fleeting moment where I wanted to tear myself from Fred's grasp and run away, but my legs felt locked in place. Instead I just stared stupidly up at him.

Gryffindor courage was failing me because I knew instantly that the moment had come. Fred and I had been locked in a bizarre game. It was as though we were a balancing act on the edge of a cliff. If we fell forward, we'd tumble headfirst off of the edge into unknown, unchartered territory. I knew what the result would be—there would be a rush of excitement, emotion and adrenaline… but to what end? If we tumbled backwards, we'd just hit solid ground. The result was dull and would perhaps hurt a little at first, but we could easily get back up and carry on with normal life. It was safe.

"Juliet?" Fred was looking at me as though he were waiting for me to say something. I stared back, feeling more confused than I felt when I was sitting in Potions class trying to figure out what I had done wrong. I realized at once that I wasn't ready to make a decision. Or, perhaps I already knew what my decision would be, but I wasn't ready to act on it quite yet.

Shaking myself from my thoughts I squeezed his hand firmly. "I think we should go back to the common room," I said.

I expected Fred to respond with a frown at my words, but instead he looked down at our entwined hands and smiled. When his blue eyes met mine again they were twinkling in noticeable happiness.

"Alright," he said softly, tugging me back towards the way we had come. "Let's go."

I racked my brain all the way back to the common room for something to say to him, but came up with nothing. We made it back to Gryffindor Tower having come the whole way in silence. Just before we went inside I stopped him. I stood up on the toes of my shoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek and stepped back.

He gave me a teasing smile and I felt instantly embarrassed. He knew as well as I did that we weren't putting our bizarre game to rest just yet. Whether we'd take a leap of faith off of a cliff or fall back to earth was still undecided, but neither of us had to say a word…

Because some things don't need to be spoken.


	17. The Quidditch Final

**A/N:** Hello all! I am very close to wrapping up this story. I hope you've all enjoyed it, and I have a feeling you will particularly enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review, as I love to hear all of your thoughts. Thank you to all of the loyal followers who have been sharing your kind words throughout this story. Let me know what you think this time around, would you?

* * *

**- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN –**

_The Quidditch Final_

With Fred filling up my head for the next several days, it was hard to think about anything else. My quest to steal the Marauder's Map back from Harry was starting to seem like a lost cause. At first the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend gave me hope that I'd be able to take advantage of the fact that everyone would be out of the way. However, Harry seemed to carry the map around with him everywhere. It was looking like my plan wasn't going to work out.

Before Hogsmeade weekend arrived, I had another matter to keep my mind occupied. My parents had come to visit Hogwarts so they could speak with me and Professor McGonagall about the Animagus procedure. As I wasn't of age, I couldn't legally go through with the plan without having my parents' approval. They were, of course, delighted about the opportunity and agreed to come speak with Professor McGonagall as soon as they heard the Ministry had given their signature.

While they were in the castle, Professor McGonagall went over the specific details of the procedure—something she had yet to cover with me. I would have to drink a potion once daily for 'as long as necessary'. McGonagall explained that the exact number of days varies from person to person. It all depended on the body's ability to cope with the changes involved. I was to drink it at the same time every day until the end of the process when I would cease taking the potion. At this point a self-transfiguration should be possible.

There were some odd side-effects I was made aware of as well. According to Professor McGonagall they usually began after one or two months of drinking the potion. Nothing sounded too extreme, so I wasn't worried about it much. In reality, there wasn't much I really needed to do. The most time-consuming part of the process would be my meetings with Professor McGonagall when she would use human transfiguration on me. This would prepare me for going through the transformation myself.

I was thankful that it would be Professor McGonagall who would be seeing me through the process and not a Ministry official. I didn't think I would be very comfortable with having regular meetings with a stranger, especially when the transfiguration would leave me entirely helpless in the event that something went wrong.

On the night that my parents left the castle, I began taking the potion Professor Snape had brewed for me. This also made me a little uncomfortable because I wasn't entirely sure Snape wouldn't try to sabotage me. I was sure he had the foresight to know that I would probably use self-transfiguration to cause trouble. I wished he didn't have to know about it, but it was part of the deal that the faculty be aware of the situation.

The morning after I began the potion procedure Fred, George and I headed to Hogsmeade together. Aside from already being extraordinarily awkward around Fred because of the ever-strange situation going on between the two of us, I was also feeling drained. After taking the potion for the first time I had been unable to sleep. Professor McGonagall said restlessness at the beginning was to be expected.

"Oi, Juliet!"

I snapped out of my daze and looked around. I remembered quite suddenly that I was in the Three Broomsticks with the blokes. My eyes snapped to Fred, who was looking at me with a concerned expression on his face.

"What?" I asked him.

"You were just sort of in a daze," he answered.

"Sorry, I'm just tired," I told him, suppressing a yawn.

Fred stuck his arm over my shoulders and gave my shoulder a squeeze. "Then why did you come?" he asked. "You could've just stayed at the castle."

"Taken a nap," George suggested.

"It wouldn't have done any good," I replied, "I can't sleep anyway."

Fred shrugged, jostling me at the same time due to his arm around my shoulders. "Maybe you'll have a better night tonight," he said.

"Yeah, maybe," I grumbled.

Fred and I hadn't discussed our relationship since the night we had gone for the walk together. Things were feeling very tense between us…or at least for me they were. Fred actually seemed quite normal, all things considered. It was unnerving. He was just as touchy-feely as ever, but we had no more close calls like we had before. George had even stopped questioning me about what was going on. He seemed to sense that whatever was going on would have to be solved by Fred and me.

The twins dragged me to nearly every shop in the town that day. I moved like a zombie, trailing behind Fred and he tugged me along by the arm. I was too exhausted to take much in, and I had the suspicion I would continue to feel that way until I had a good long night's sleep.

It was ages before Fred and George decided it was time to head back to the castle, b when we did I made a beeline for the common room and collapsed on the sofa. Fred had insisted I go straight to bed, but without any energy to climb the stairs I figured the common room would suffice.

"You sure you're alright?"

I squinted through slits in my eyes and saw Fred standing above me.

"I'm fine," I muttered.

"Come on, I'll bring you to your dormitory."

I had never known exactly how Fred and George were able to get up to the girls dormitories, but I figured that because they knew every secret in the school, that they had figured out another one sometime during their years here. Fred grabbed my arms and yanked me up.

"I can get up there on my own," I grumbled, feeling irritable. I sincerely hoped the grogginess wouldn't last much longer.

He laughed. "An extra set of hands doesn't hurt," he said as we reached the top of the staircase. He pushed open the door and saw me right to my four-poster bed, encouraging me to lie down.

I smiled a little. Watching Fred fuss over me was a little amusing, and undeniably sweet. I was certain he wasn't behaving like a regular friend, but I was in no condition to dwell over it. I rolled myself onto my side, relishing in the fact that I could snuggle into my comforter.

"Don't you come back down until you've had some rest," Fred told me, patting my head. "You're downright boring when you're like this."

I laughed again, letting myself drift to sleep. I had almost zoned completely out when I felt him stoop down so his head was close to mine. I kept my eyes shut, but felt as his lips brushed my forehead lightly.

I half-expected him to say something, but I heard his footsteps moments later and listened to them get further away as he went back down to the common room.

* * *

Mercifully, over the following weeks the exhaustion due to the potion faded. However, exhaustion over homework and Quidditch practice soon took its place. Our O.W.L.s were swiftly approaching and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with the piles of school work that the teachers were throwing at us. Oliver, however, was working us so hard with practices that I rarely had any time to work on anything else.

The Quidditch final was upon us with surprising speed. For a full week beforehand the excitement in the air was nearly palpable. It seemed all of Hogwarts—aside from the Slytherin house, of course—were hoping for a Gryffindor win. With all of the pressure on the end-of-the-year match, it was hard to concentrate. I had started getting anxious that I may fall of my broom or fail to perform properly due to the side-effects of the Animagus potion. Professor McGonagall assured me that I would be perfectly fine, but that didn't stop the paranoid thoughts I was having. I would wake up in the middle of the night with weird dreams about sighting a bird and eating it during the match. Irrational though it was, I couldn't help but fear it coming true.

Besides my worried thoughts about Quidditch, the rest of the team was on edge as well. Oliver continued to bother Harry, telling him to only catch the Snitch when we were more than fifty points up. He was also pressuring the Chasers, because if we didn't score enough points before Harry caught the Snitch we would lose regardless of the quality of our playing. If that were to happen I couldn't be certain Oliver would let any of us off the Quidditch pitch alive.

In fact, the entire Gryffindor house was obsessed with the upcoming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley had been Seeker. The chatter of excitement seemed to follow the team everywhere we went. The continuous talk about the match made me even more nervous.

To make a long story short, with the pressure of my bizarre relationship with Fred, the upcoming match and our Ordinary Wizarding Level finals swiftly approaching, I was close to a meltdown.

"Blimey, are you listening to me Juliet?"

"Huh?" I looked up and saw George waving his hands in front of my face in an attempt to get my attention.

"What is going on in that head of yours?" he asked. I didn't know whether he looked more irritated or worried.

"Sorry," I said breathily. "I'm just… nervous."

"Don't worry about the match," he reassured me. "You will be fine. But could you please give me back my essay? You've been looking at it for over half an hour."

"Oh, right sorry," I replied, shaking my head and handing the essay back to him. I had been trying to sift through George's History of Magic essay in an attempt to make mine more presentable. I wasn't making much progress, as I had read the same sentence thirteen times without managing to take in a word of it.

"Well, there's no time to continue looking at it now," George said. "We've got to head down to the change rooms or Wood'll do his nut."

I groaned and got up from my comfortable seat. George was right. If we waited any longer the match would start without us. I ignored the nervous butterflies building in my stomach and picked up my bag full of Quidditch gear from the common room floor.

"How's the…thing coming along?" George asked quietly as we walked down the corridors for the Quidditch pitch. We had been very careful not to talk about my Animagus process around anyone who may overhear. I really didn't like the idea of the whole castle knowing.

"Not great…awful actually," I answered. "The meetings with McGonagall have been ghastly. Self-transfiguration is really uncomfortable when someone else is controlling it."

"You'll get used to it though," he said, although it sounded like a question.

"Eventually, I guess," I said. "At least the sleeping side-effects are gone, but soon the weird ones are supposed to start up," I told him. Fred appeared just as we were heading outside.

"You didn't wait for me!" he accused, hurrying to catch up to us.

"You were slow!" I called back, turning my attention again to George.

"What weird side-effects?" he asked.

"Well, I'm supposed to get strange _cat_-_like_ urges, whatever that's supposed to mean," I answered.

"Like?" George asked.

"Eating birds?" Fred said, letting out a bark of laughter.

"I have no idea really," I answered, but my stomach gave a lurch. Fred had only been joking, but it had hit home after my bird-eating nightmares. I pictured myself snatching a bird from the sky and swallowing it whole. "I'm afraid I'll bugger up today," I said, beginning to feel nauseous.

"You'll do brilliantly," Fred disagreed.

He threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me tight against his side as the pitch came into view. Stooping low to kiss the side of my head, he whispered into my ear, "You're bloody cute when you're nervous."

I blanched, but wasn't certain whether it was due to Fred's comment or the fact that I could now see Oliver Wood doing a walk around the pitch, surveying the conditions.

The air outside was cool, but not freezing, and it looked as though the skies were going to remain clear all day. This only worsened my fears of eating birds. Clear skies meant there would be plenty around to munch on…

Wood was still pacing the pitch, walking around in circles when we made it down to the field. He was staring at the ground. The rest of the team lined up behind him, not making a sound. We waited patiently for him to say something, but he remained silent.

After staring at Wood for what seemed ages, the doors of the castle opened and the rest of the school spilled out onto the lawn. My breathing hitch and I grabbed Fred's hand unconsciously. I was so nervous I completely missed the scathing look George shot me from Fred's opposite side.

"Changing rooms," Wood said.

Everyone changed into their Quidditch equipment and robes in complete silence. In no time at all, it seemed, Wood was signaling everyone to exit out onto the pitch.

As the team traipsed out to the pitch we were met by an ear-splitting roar. An overwhelming three quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet, and flags with the Gryffindor lion on them were waving at us from every direction. I also spotted a few banners in the crowd printed with 'GO GRYFFINDOR' or 'LIONS FOR THE CUP!' in gold letters.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee in the distance over the speakerphone. As he introduced us all by name, Slytherin hisses and boos could be heard from the right-hand side of the pitch. The Slytherin house stood out starkly in contrast to the scarlet Gryffindor supporters.

"They are widely acknowledged as the best side Hogwarts has seen in a good few years," Lee continued and was met by more boos from the Slytherins.

"Mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch called, and I realized I hadn't been paying attention at all. The captains had already shaken hands and Hooch's whistle was already being raised. "Three…two…one…" The sound of her whistle sent both teams flying into the air. There was a huge roar from the crowd as the fourteen brooms lifted from the ground.

"Gryffindor in possession… Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts," Lee was saying quickly. I focused on his voice in a vain attempt to steady myself as I regained my courage. "Looking good, Alicia! NO! Quaffle intercepted by Warrington. Nice Bludger work there by Weasley!"

I stopped listening to Lee as Warrington very suddenly dropped the Quaffle. I caught it, momentarily forgetting about my nerves. Taking possession easily, I steered my broom towards the Slytherin goalposts, dodging a Bludger and swerving around the Keeper…

"SHE SCORES! JULIET MAKES IT TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!" Lee's voice echoed throughout the air as the crowd went wild.

I swerved again and was nearly thrown from my broom as Marcus Flint smashed violently into me. There was no doubt in my mind that it was intentional.

"Sorry!" I heard Flint mutter a fake apology. "Sorry, didn't see her!" He gave me a disgusting grin than had me scowling back at him angrily.

Next moment, Fred had chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. I was flattered at the chivalry, but annoyed at the same time—Fred's outburst would cost us.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between Fred and Flint with an angry look on her face. The blokes looked mutinous and glared daggers at each other. "Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser!" Madam Hooch belted. "Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to _their_ Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred. Hooch sped off to the sidelines again and Fred turned to me. "Can't let you get injured out here can I?" he said, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes and turned to look at the penalty shot being taken.

"Come on Alicia!" Lee yelled as Alicia moved forward to take the penalty. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Fred and George pumped their fists into the air and I zoomed around to face the opposite end of the pitch where Oliver was hovering expectantly. Flint moved forward to take the penalty for Slytherin.

"Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee yelled over the crowd. "Superb! Very difficult to pass YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Slytherin was in possession again. I realized very suddenly that my nervousness had complete evaporated. My silly bird nightmare had been very stupid indeed, because I was feeling completely normal in the air. I could feel the intensity coursing through my body as I watched carefully, flying up behind Katie who had just taken the Quaffle. She streaked towards the goalpost, but was blocked by a Slytherin Chaser. He was a massive bloke and deliberately plowed straight into Katie in an obvious attempt to knock her off her broom. I was beginning to see a trend in the opposing team's tactics.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague, the Slytherin Chaser, and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty goal past the Slytherin Keeper.

Back in play once again, I looked up and saw the Quaffle falling out of one of the Slytherins' reach. I took both hands off of my broom to grab it by my fingertips. Holding the Quaffle under one arm and grasping my broomstick in the other, I sped towards the goal again. Marcus Flint was right beside me.

"Wood should know better than to let girls onto his team," Flint sneered.

"Oh, it's you," I called back to him. "I was wondering what that dreadful stench was."

Flint let out a sort of strangled growl. He reached over and grabbed the Quaffle from me roughly. I snarled back at him, resisting the urge to punch him in the back of the head, and shot after him. He flew towards Wood with me tailing him, but he got there before me. He had scored.

Despite the minor setback, soon Gryffindor had gained another ten points with a penalty shot to both teams. Wood made another brilliant save, making the score forty-ten. Katie put the Quaffle easily through the centre hoop once more. Perhaps out of rage, the Slytherin Beaters then knocked both Bludgers directly at Wood, despite the fact that the play was nowhere near him. One of the Bludgers narrowly missed, but the second caught him straight-on. He was hit right in the gut, and he rolled over on his broom in pain.

"Oliver!" Katie yelped and bolted towards the far side of the pitch to check on him. If I hadn't been so outraged I would have found it funny that she was running to Wood's rescue.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle again and I took the penalty, scoring once more for Gryffindor. Moments later, Fred pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands. Alicia grabbed it quickly and put it through the Slytherin goal making the score seventy-ten.

I was starting to get excited. The Cup was within our reach! All we needed to do was hold on long enough for Harry to catch the Snitch. My heart was pounding in my chest as play resumed.

Very suddenly Harry was racing to catch the Snitch. I couldn't see it from where I was hovering, but certainly that's what he was doing. Malfoy was tailing him very closely, but Harry's Firebolt was far superior. He was going to catch it! Only, he didn't. At the last moment Malfoy, in an unparalleled display of cheating, launched himself forwards and grabbed onto the back of Harry's broom. Harry's broom jerked backwards, and the Snitch escaped.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeched. Her yells were punctuated by the shouts of three-quarters of the entire school. I even caught a glimpse of Professor McGonagall, shaking her fist in rage. She didn't even try to stop Lee as he began cursing into the microphone. I felt a surge of pride in my house, watching Professor McGonagall behaving obscenely on the sidelines, and turned my attention back to the game.

Alicia took the resulting penalty for Gryffindor. Being so angry, however, she missed by quite a lot. The score was seventy-twenty for Gryffindor and the team was starting to lose concentration.

Trying to regroup, I tailed Flint as he received a pass from Montague.

"George!" I yelled, and he directed a Bludger directly at us. Flint dodged it, but fumbled with the Quaffle, dropping it. I acted quickly, grabbing it as it fell out of his hands.

I had to score again so Harry would be free to catch the Snitch. I realized quite suddenly that every single Slytherin player was streaking towards me in an attempt to stop me from making the goal. I braced myself, sure they were going to run right into me, when Harry came out of nowhere and shot towards the Slytherins. They were forced to scatter and my way was clear. I leaned forward and kept my eye on the Slytherin goal.

"SHE SCORES! CHRISTIE SCORES! Gryffindor lead by eighty points to twenty!"

I then heard a loud gasp from the crowd and looked up in horror to see Malfoy going into a great dive with his hand outstretched.

"NO!" I yelled. My eyes were fixated on Malfoy as I ignored the game around me.

Harry was pushing the Firebolt and seemed to be gaining on Malfoy. Whether or not he would be fast enough was hard to tell.

"Come on Harry!" I yelled at him, though I could barely hear myself above all of the screaming that the crowd was doing.

He knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and pulled out of his dive, his arm in the air triumphantly.

It took me a minute to register what had happened, and then the crowd erupted with more noise than I have ever heard before. I screamed and shot myself towards the ground where the rest of the team was now racing.

"WE'VE DONE IT!" I yelled. "WE'VE WON!"

Oliver, Harry, Alicia, Katie, George and Fred were all landing around me. It was hard to tell who was who as everyone slapped each other on the back and exchanged hearty hoots and laughter. A massive wave of scarlet came pouring down from the stands as we stood there, glowing with happiness. Suddenly, I, along with the rest of the Gryffindor team, was hoisted into the air, on the shoulders of the Gryffindor supporters.

Above all of the heads I saw Hagrid yelling for joy and Percy, dignity forgotten as he jumped around like a maniac. I couldn't stop smiling and just stared around at everyone, still in shock. Wood's face was tear-streaked, but Professor McGonagall was sobbing even more than he was. She was wiping her eyes on a giant Gryffindor flag. Wood then passed the cup to Harry, who held it up above his head. The look on his face summed up how all of us were feeling—utter elation.

When the crowd finally let the team down, I looked around as George's arms latched themselves around me. I spun towards him and hugged him back in earnest, laughing as he tousled my hair. "You were brilliant!" he yelled over the noise.

"So were you!" I said, grinning back. "Nice Bludger work back there, by the way. I wouldn't have scored that last one without you."

"We make an excellent team," he agreed.

I was being jostled around uncontrollably. Hands were everywhere, and I hardly realized that I was being pulled backwards. I was very abruptly yanked away from George. Someone spun me around swiftly. I hardly managed to crack a smile at Fred as he grinned down at me before he was crushing his lips down on mine.

Shock coursed through my body as Fred pulled me to him with irresistible force. His lips were forceful, but oddly soft even through all of the chaos. I don't know when I began to react, but I found myself grabbing onto his Quidditch robes and pulling him strongly towards me. Before I even had time to think about what was happening we were full-on snogging in the middle of the celebrating crowd.

His hands were on me—one hand on my back, and one in my sweat-coated hair. I had the bizarre thought that he tasted of peppermint and firecrackers before he pulled away. As soon as he did, I regretted letting him stop.

He grinned down at me again. I must have looked shocked because he laughed and released me. I let go of the front of his robes reluctantly, feeling very light-headed.

"Sorry," he said cheekily, giving me a wink. "Couldn't control myself!"

He bent quickly once more and pecked me once on the lips before spinning around and darting in the opposite direction. I stared after him in astonishment, watching his retreating figure until I was brought back to reality by Oliver throwing his arms around me.

"Christie!" he said. His eyes were still full of tears. "We couldn't have done it without you! And Spinnet, Bell!" he pulled the other two girls towards us in an uncomfortable, strangled group hug. "You girls are bloody brilliant."

Alicia, Katie and I laughed at the display, and were startled when, in an act so unlike Wood, he grabbed each one of us and placed a sloppy kiss on our cheeks.

"Now, now, Wood," I said cheekily, "you have to let us return the favour."

Tightly-wound Oliver was clearly in another world entirely, because he accepted our silly kisses happily before grabbing hold of the Weasley twins.

The party on the Quidditch pitch lasted for quite some time. However, even after the students had returned to the castle, laughter and cries of delight could still be heard in the Gryffindor common room all through the night. Professor McGonagall wouldn't be able to stop anyone from celebrating this time, although I had a feeling she wasn't going to try.


	18. The Aftermath

**- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN-**

_The Aftermath_

As June approached, even the weather seemed to be celebrating the Gryffindor win of the Quidditch Cup. All anyone wanted to do was walk around on the grounds, but of course, with exams approaching, no one could. The twins and I stayed inside and tried to learn everything we should've learned over the year. The homework had piled up even more due to the fact that the O.W.L.s were so close.

The teachers had been badgering us since the start of term to make sure we were continuously revising for our final examinations. Things were only getting worse as the end of the year swiftly approached. Professor McGonagall was probably the only teacher who was feeling good-natured enough to give us a bit of a break. Because so many of her fifth year Gryffindor students had just won her the Quidditch Cup, she did seem to be going a bit easier on us. That wasn't to say we weren't still studying vigorously for Transfiguration, it's just that we had a slight bit less on our plate than we might have if we had lost the match to Slytherin.

On the week of exams, the castle seemed a lot quieter than usual. The students were desperately trying to get in any last-minute studying. It was strange to see so few students socializing in between classes. Of course, with the Dementors still standing guard outside of the castle and the ever-looming threat of Sirius Black, we were still forbidden to be without supervision while we roamed the corridors.

I received my O.W.L. timetable during one of our last Transfiguration lessons of the year. Professor McGonagall put the times on the blackboard and all of us copied them down obediently. The tests were spread over two consecutive weeks. I could hear Fred and George groaning from either side of me as they read over the schedule.

"You will sit the theory papers in the mornings and practice in the afternoons. Your Astronomy examination, will of course, be taken during the night," Professor McGonagall was explaining.

Unfortunately, if Professor McGonagall were to say something of dire importance during her speech, I would not have heard it. She continued on about anti-cheating devices to ensure legitimacy while my mind wandered. I probably should have been trying to pay closer attention. Not only were my grades at stake, but I held a certain responsibility to Professor McGonagall. After the lengths she was going to help me become an Animagus, I felt I owed her to act as a decent student… at the very least in her class, anyway. However, my mind was on other things. Or rather, my mind was on one other thing.

Fred Weasley.

And more specifically, the kiss we had shared after the Quidditch match.

Almost as soon as we had made it up to our dormitory that night, Katie and Alicia had sprung on me. They had both seen the blatant display and were eager to pester me until I told them what was going on. Oddly enough, though, I had nothing to tell them. I wasn't sure what the kiss had meant, if I was being honest. Fred had acted as though it was just a joke… something he did on a whim without thinking. I was sure that Fred had developed feelings for me over the course of the school year, but the fact that he had walked away like it was nothing had me baffled. I had no idea if it had actually meant anything to him, although I couldn't deny that it had certainly meant something to me.

The girls were put out by my lack of information, but were quick to speculate with me about the meaning of said kiss. It was the first time I had actually spoken openly with someone about the prospect of having a relationship with Fred. Even on the rare occasions that I had spoken to George about it I had never truly admitted that I had developed feelings for my best mate. With the girls it seemed natural. I was thankful to have them around to talk it out with. I was perplexed and didn't know where else to turn for advice.

When the bell rang to dismiss the class I was brought back into the real world. I quickly collected all of my things and shoved them into my rucksack. Fred and I headed out of the classroom with Lee and George following close behind.

"You okay, Jules?" Fred asked. He seemed to have noticed I hadn't been my usual self. What he didn't seem to have figured out was _why_ I was behaving the way I was.

"Yeah," I lied. "Why?"

"You look off," he answered, surveying me with a frown on his face.

_Brilliant observation._

I forced a breathy laugh and shook my head, staring down at my shoes.

"I'm fine," I said, trying to sound as earnest as possible.

Fred nodded. I couldn't tell if he believed me, but he didn't say anything further. Instead he fell back with George and Lee, leaving me to my thoughts as we wormed our way through the corridors.

I had noticed that Fred had grown more distant since he had kissed me at the match. There was no hand-holding or innocent flirting like there used to be between us. If I had thought about it weeks ago, I wouldn't have thought I'd miss any of the playful signs of affection he bestowed on me. Now that they had ceased, however, I found myself oddly saddened. I didn't want things to go back to the way they were. I hated to admit that I was hung up on Fred, but it irritated me that he didn't seem at all fussed about me after what had happened between us.

I tried to shake off the feeling, thinking I was reading too far into it. Fred and I were just friends. The kiss was based merely on our excitement at the time. It didn't mean anything.

I felt my heart sink. That couldn't possibly be true. I had seen the Perception Putty in Fred's hand that night… and the walk we had taken together after I told him I was going to become an Animagus… I was positive he was trying to tell me something that night. The way he was looking at me was unmistakable.

But why, then, was he acting as though nothing had happened?

* * *

I made it through the entire day feeling utterly miffed. Katie and Alicia had wanted to go to George about the matter, but I made them promise they wouldn't. The last thing I wanted was George taking the piss out of me about Fred again.

I was actually surprised that George hadn't approached me about it. I was sure he knew what happened. Even in the unlikely event that he hadn't seen us snogging in the middle of the field, Fred would surely have told him about it.

"Kitchens?"

I looked up from my Potions book to see Fred staring expectantly at me from across the table in the common room. I frowned at him. How could he be so casual after what happened?

"What's wrong?" he asked, catching the unease in my expression.

"Nothing," I said quickly, shutting my book and placing it back in my book bag. "Sure, kitchens. I'll come."

Fred smiled easily at me and led me back out of the common room. I wasn't sure why I was even bothering to follow him. Truth be told, I think some part of me was hoping if we were alone he would want to talk about the two of us. It seemed more likely that he'd want to discuss the matter in private rather than in front of an audience of our friends. Although, the kiss itself had been _very_ public, so embarrassment didn't really seem to affect Fred in the slightest.

I walked next to Fred in silence for a few moments. I had no idea what I should say, and he didn't seem to be making any effort to relieve the tension between us, either. I knew he could sense my discomfort, and I wanted to confide in him, but I wasn't sure how to approach the topic. How do you bring something like that up?

"Fred?" I said, looking sideways at him.

"Yeah?" he answered.

I paused for a minute, trying to think of some way to word what I was thinking, but nothing came to mind. With no intelligent response I left his name hanging there, unable to say any more.

"Is something wrong?" he asked me carefully.

My eyes snapped to his blue ones and I pursed my lips in a firm line. I suddenly felt angry. How could he even ask that? After all of the mixed signals he had been sending me, how could he not expect something to be wrong?

"I don't know," I answered. "Is there?"

I stopped in the corridor and turned towards him, eyeing him pointedly. He looked mystified, which angered me even further.

"Er… sorry, what?" he asked, staring at me with confusion etched on his features.

"Is there something wrong?" I repeated, staring at him directly in the eye.

"Juliet, I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, letting out a nervous laugh that gave him away. I knew immediately he was lying to me. "Can we go eat?"

He reached out to take my arm and I moved backwards to avoid his touch.

"No, we can't," I said.

"Juliet, what's going on?" he said. He ran a hand through his messy red hair anxiously. I was sure the nervous look in his eyes was born from guilt, and it fired me up even more.

"Why don't you tell me what's going on, Fred?" I demanded. I could feel my face heat up in anger. He was playing stupid, I knew he was. Whatever reason Fred had for pretending nothing had happened between us was not good enough. He was my _best_ _mate_. Regardless of the awkwardness—regardless of the tension—he had no right to snog me and then act as though nothing had happened.

"Jules, calm down," he said, reaching out towards me and taking a firm hold of my arm. "Tell me what's wrong."

I paused and stared at him. He looked worried. He must have known what the problem was, but I could see in his eyes that he didn't want me to bring it up.

_Tough._ I thought angrily. He was going to have to own up to what he did. I deserved an explanation for the way he was acting.

"We kissed Fred," I said quietly.

Fred was quiet for what felt like a long time, but what I'm sure was only moments. He shook his head and pursed his lips. He almost looked… _amused_. Confusion bubbled inside of me once more.

"Is that what this is about?" he asked, a relieved smile forming on his face. His grip on my arm lessened, but he did not let go.

I stared at him, wide-eyed in expectation. He didn't say anything else, though, so I answered him.

"Of course that's what this is about," I said, letting the anger colour my tone. "We _snogged_, Fred."

"You're right," he said casually. "We did."

"And that's it?" I asked, feeling outraged. "That's not the kind of activity friends normally engage in!"

Fred studied me for a long while. I was so angry I hardly managed to take in the expression on his face. He almost looked like he was contemplating. It was as though he had just been presented with a question that he wasn't sure how to answer.

"Wow-um…I'm sorry I did that, I didn't realize it would get you so worked up," he said, and he grinned stupidly at me.

I yanked my arm out of my grasp, feeling it pop a little from the force.

"_What_ is wrong with you?" I yelled suddenly, taking Fred by surprise. He looked panicked now, almost like he had expected this conversation to arise but had hoped he could make it go away. It made me furious.

"Nothing's wrong with me," he answered loudly. "What's wrong with you?"

"_You_ kissed me!" I bellowed. I could hear my voice echo off of the corridor walls.

"Would you keep your voice down?" he said, looking behind his back to ensure no one was coming towards us. "Why is this bothering you?"

He looked at me as though I was being completely ridiculous. I scowled back at his handsome freckled face.

"Why wouldn't it bother me?" I said, more quietly this time. "My best friend snogs me in front of the entire school and then acts like it never happened? You don't think that would affect me at all?"

I could feel my anger starting to crack, and sadness kicking in. It was degrading to think that Fred would do something like that to me and not have the decency to talk to me about it. He hadn't given me any sort of explanation. On top of that he thought I was being stupid about it. Tears started welling up in my eyes. I tried to force them away, ashamed of the fact that he was upsetting me as much as he was.

Fred's features softened when he saw the tears start to fall down my face and he pulled me into a hug. I tried to resist, but couldn't stop him from wrapping his arms around me. I didn't do the same to him.

"Julie, I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "I… I really didn't mean anything by that kiss…I was just excited. I got ahead of myself. I should have talked to you about it earlier."

I could feel the sadness wash over me in waves. I wasn't comforted at all by Fred's words. In fact, what he said made me cry even more. That had not been what I had wanted to hear. It couldn't possibly be true. It _couldn't _be. He was the one who had feelings for me. Why all of a sudden was he deciding it was a spur-of-the-moment thing that had no meaning?

Unless…

Unless he _had _fancied me until the day of the match. Maybe he had had feelings for me all along, but after the kiss he had realized it had all been a mistake. Maybe the kiss had the opposite effect on him as it did on me. While it had made me—dare I say it—want to be with him, it had instead made him decide he _didn't _want to be with me.

I could feel the tears coming down harder. I couldn't stand there anymore. I had to leave.

I broke away from Fred's grasp so suddenly that he didn't have time to pull me back. Before he could catch a glimpse at my tear-stained face I turned and sprinted back to the Gryffindor tower, ignoring Fred's voice calling me back. I couldn't look at him right now. I didn't want to look at him.

I entered the common room and saw George and Lee seated by the fire. They grinned at me at first, until they spotted the state I was in.

"Jules… what happened?" George said, getting up from his seat quickly. Lee followed suit, but I was already heading up the stairs to the girls dormitory.

"Juliet?" I heard Lee call, but I ignored them both.

I stormed my way into the dormitory, spotting Alicia sitting on her bed with a book in her lap.

"Hey Jul—what's wrong?" she asked, dropping her book and coming towards me as soon as she caught sight of my face.

I wiped the tears hastily from my face. Being away from him had caused my anger to return. I didn't want to cry over him. It made me feel weak.

I sniffed and wiped the tears onto the sleeve of my jumper.

"It's Fred," I answered Alicia. It didn't make much sense to hide it from her. I flopped myself down onto my four-poster bed and looked up at the ceiling.

"Fred?" she asked, sounding concerned. "What did he do?"

I groaned.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" I said, sitting up at my bed and glaring at the wall as if he was standing in front of me.

"What do you mean?" Alicia asked.

"He's being a right prat!" I yelled, fingering the wand inside the pocket of my jumper.

Alicia eyed me warily.

"Well that's no surprise," Alicia said in an attempt to bring humour to the situation. It didn't do much good. "Tell me what happened."

"Ok," I said, trying to calm down so I could explain myself. I took a deep breath, blowing the loose pieces of auburn hair out of my face and straightened myself up on my bed. "I confronted him about the kiss," I said, feeling much better. It helped that I was speaking to a normal person rather than being face-to-face with the idiot Weasley.

"You did?" Alicia asked, sitting back down on her bed and staring at me intently. "What happened?"

"He thought it was a right laugh that I was so upset over a silly kiss," I told her darkly. "And then he told me… what was it? Oh yes, that it _didn't really mean anything, _and he _was just excited_."

Alicia frowned, looking deep in thought. She eyed me carefully before she spoke next.

"And that upset you?" she asked me hesitantly.

"Well, yeah!" I said. "First he full-on flirts with me, then he snogs me in front of the whole bloody school, and then he acts like we're best friends again and nothing even happened. Wouldn't that upset you?"

Alicia snickered. I stared at her, confused and a little offended. It was one thing for Fred not to take me seriously, but Alicia was at least supposed to side with me if I confided in her.

"What?" I snapped, feeling irritated again. "You can't tell me that wouldn't piss you off."

"Sure it would upset me," she answered. "I don't think it would make me cry, though. I don't think I'd be _that_ upset about it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked bitterly, staring at her in disbelief. Was she honestly saying she agreed with Fred? That I had been overreacting about the whole thing?

"Well…clearly you're just upset about this because you fancy him," she said.

"That's ridiculous Leesh," I said scoffing. "So what if I do fancy him? Even if I didn't I'd still be upset."

"Would you?" she asked pointedly.

"Of course I would!"

"Think about it, Juliet. If none of these little flirtatious games between the two of you had been going on and he had snogged you, what would you have done?" she asked.

I didn't answer.

"I'll tell you what you would have done," she said, ignoring my silence. "You would have smacked him right across his face and called him a cheeky bastard."

I grimaced, recognizing the truth in Alicia's words.

"There's no way you would have run up here crying your eyes out," she continued. I fought the urge to protest that I wasn't crying my eyes out. I knew that I had been.

"What's your point?" I asked defiantly.

"My point is you can't be furious with him over this," she said reasonably. "From his point of view he was just being goofy Fred Weasley, messing around with his best mate. It's only because you fancy him that you're fussed about it."

I felt my heart ache, because something inside me told me she was right.

"No," I said firmly. "There's no way on earth I would ever fancy that smarmy piece of shit."

Alica frowned. We both knew it was a complete lie. "That was a little harsh," she said.

"Why are you defending him?" I snapped. "You know what? Get out!"

"Jules—"

"No, Alicia," I said. "Go."

Alicia didn't say anything as she got up out and left the room. She didn't seem angry or upset, probably because she knew that I wouldn't be mad at her forever. Plus, it was Fred whom I was really pissed off at, not her.

I felt guilty almost immediately, and almost called Alicia back as she exited the room, except I heard her run into someone.

"Oops, sorry Fred," I heard her say through the doorway.

"Is Juliet in there?"

"She is, but she's fuming mad," Alicia said.

I heard Fred mutter something, but I couldn't make out what it was. Then he knocked on the door.

I didn't say anything.

I lay back on my bed and stared moodily up at the ceiling.

He knocked again, and then opened the door.

"Jules?"

"What do you want Fred?" I said bitterly.

"What is going on?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused. He made his way over to me and sat down on my bed. I looked up at him despite my desire to pretend he didn't exist, and was hurt to see that he really did look perplexed. But that didn't make any sense to me. If he truly was just messing around and the kiss had meant nothing, then why had he been imagining snogging me during the holidays? And why had he been dropping so many hints about fancying me?

"I'd like to know the same thing," I said.

Fred sighed. "Can we not start that again? Can you please tell me why you blew up at me," he asked. His voice was almost pleading.

"Why do you think?" I asked him. I sat up in my bed and looked coldly into his eyes.

"I don't know," he answered, "that's why I asked."

"Well if you don't know, then I don't want to talk about it," I answered. "Can you please get out of my room?"

Fred looked at me with a defiant expression.

"No, I'm not going anywhere until we get this sorted."

"Fine," I said, standing up. I marched out of the room without a backwards glance, although I was sure he wasn't going to go down that easy.

I heard Fred grumble as I headed down to the common room where Alicia and George were talking in whispers on the sofa. I sat down next to them, ignoring their looks of bewilderment, and waited for Fred to come back down. Sure enough, he did a few moments later.

"Would you stop doing that?" he snapped, approaching me again.

Alicia and George turned their attention to Fred, and watched in curiosity and silence and we continued to bicker.

"Doing what?" I asked.

Fred closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. The look in his eyes was desperate now. "Please, Juliet. Will you just talk to me?"

"I am talking to you," I told him. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that the sad look he was giving me was dissolving my anger. "Perhaps you can't hear, should I speak louder?"

Fred just stood there for a moment, as if he was thinking of something to say.

"What's going on?" Lee asked, coming down the stairs from the boy's dormitory.

"No idea," George answered with a puzzled look on his face.

"Nothing," I said standing up, "I was just leaving."

No one protested this time as I got up and exited through the portrait hole door. Truth be told, I wasn't sure why I was running. Fred and I rarely fought, but when we did Fred was never known to back away from a fight. He was a resolver, and as much as I tried to put distance between us, I knew it would only be a matter of time before he cornered me and demanded we fixed up the mess.

I was storming furiously down the corridors with no destination, just the desire to get away from him, when I heard his footsteps approaching once more.

"Why do you keep running off?" he yelled, grabbing my arm.

"Maybe because I don't want to be around you," I yelled back, yanking my arm out of his reach.

"Can you just tell me why you're angry?" Fred asked, trying to keep his temper under control. It was one thing he was good at. If there was a problem, someone always had to remain level-headed. Fred clearly thought I was out of my mind, so he was trying to be the calm one. I wasn't sure if it was helping, or making me more irritable.

I shook my head. "You know why I'm mad."

"Not really," he said. "I know we snogged, and now you're yelling about it. But I don't know _why_."

I stared at him, feeling very suddenly like a child who had been caught sneaking treats after dinner. I knew very well that our fight was going to have to end. Fred and I couldn't stay mad at each other. We didn't function that way. He was my best mate. But I couldn't possibly tell him why it upset me so much that he had snogged me and forgotten it had happened. If it really meant nothing to him then I couldn't put myself out on the line like that. It was too uncomfortable… and yet, a part of me just wanted it to be out in the open.

"Just tell me," he said. His expression was kinder now. "You can tell me anything."

"I … I can't," I said, feeling the energy drain from me. The entire fight had exhausted me.

Fred shot me a defeated look. "Why not?"

I shook my head and I felt the tears starting to well up again. I tried to force them away but I couldn't.

"I can't tell you…" I started, "because I don't know."

I looked down at my feet.

"What do you mean?" Fred said, trying to get me to look at him.

I shrugged pathetically. I knew that Alicia was right. The reason I was so upset over what Fred had said was because that's not what I had wanted him to say. I didn't want to hear that the kiss had meant nothing.

"I don't know why I got so angry," I said stupidly, staring down at my feet. "I guess I just…" I chanced a glance up at him and found myself saying the words I wanted to avoid admitting. "I thought maybe it meant something."

An awkward, lingering silence fell between us. I felt like the world's biggest idiot as we stood there, each of us staring at the ground. Then Fred stepped forward and placed his hand under my chin. He lifted my face and forced me to look into his eyes.

"Juliet, I'm sorry I upset you," he said quietly.

I nodded silently, not wanting to open my mouth. I was afraid if I started talking I would start to cry again.

"Will you forgive me?" he asked pleadingly.

I shrugged again and he pulled me into a hug.

"I don't like it when you're mad at me you know," he said chuckling a little.

I let out a half-hearted laugh and wiped my tears on my sleeve. My heart was sinking. I wanted nothing more than to return to my dormitory and curl up under the covers.

Fred pulled away and held me at arm's length.

"You know I don't intentionally piss you off," he said. "It just comes naturally. I'm really sorry."

I smiled despite myself and nodded again. All I had to do was hold on until I was out of reach from him, then I'd be free to wallow in self-pity for a while.

"Come on, let's head back before we get ourselves a detention from Filch."

I nodded half-heartedly and allowed Fred to tug me back to the common room where I inevitably fell asleep feeling more miserable than I had in a long time.

* * *

**A/N**: If you've reached the end of this chapter and noticed there aren't any more, please do not fret! This story was previously complete, but I was unhappy with the way it turned out. I am currently re-writing the remaining three chapters and I WILL have them up and this story finished (for good this time) within the next week (perhaps two). Put the story on your alerts so you don't miss the brand new chapters. I will be posting soon, I promise!

As always, please leave me a review so I can really appreciate all of the support you give me.


	19. The Unregistered Animagus

**A/N**: My dearest readers, I hope you've enjoyed the story thus far. Anyone who is reading this story for the first time will not know the difference in these last few chapters of _It Happens in Threes_. But readers who have already finished the story once (or possibly more times) will notice that this story is about to take a twist that hadn't occurred in the original version. So, whether you've been through _It Happens in Threes_ before or not, you're about to read a previously entirely unwritten chapter! I hope you enjoy it. Please review. It makes staying up late to post worth the trouble!

* * *

**- CHAPTER NINETEEN -**

_The Unregistered Animagus_

The following weekend my relationship with Fred had returned to normal. Of course, by _normal_ I mean Fred once again returned to behaving the way he had acted before he had snogged me on the Quidditch pitch. He was flirty and touchy and behaved as though nothing had occurred between the two of us. It was as if we had gone in a circle. The whole thing was exasperating, but after our last blow-out, I didn't want to deal with another fight. I couldn't really figure it out, but my best idea was that perhaps to Fred that is what our relationship entailed. Maybe the small signs of affection were just a mark of the bond between us as close friends. Whatever the case, I decided to put it to the side, as more pressing matters were on my mind.

My last day of exams passed fairly easily, much to my pleasure. Aside from a near disastrous incident in Potions, I thought I had done fairly well with my O.W.L.s. Although the heads of houses had met with all of the fifth year students about what they would like to pursue in their future careers, I hadn't managed to come to any sort of conclusion. I had opted to do as well as I could in my tests and hope the result would allow me to enter the functional wizarding world without difficulty. What I wished to do with my life was thus far entirely unknown. But honestly, what fifteen-year-old could possibly know where their future was to be?

The term was soon coming to an end, and Professor McGonagall insisted we increase our usual Animagus meetings to once a week. She wanted to ensure that I would be able to continue the regiment over the summer on my own. Upon returning for my sixth year, McGonagall would re-instate the practice of transfiguring me into a cat. The break would give me some time to relax, but she did not want to take the chance that it may cause a setback in the progress I had made.

My meetings with Professor McGonagall had been going well. In fact, she seemed very pleased with me as of late. I suppose she had taken a great liking to me with all of the hard work I had been putting into the process. It was likely the first time she had ever seen me acting with any sort of passion towards a subject that did not include goofing off with the Weasley twins. Every time she spoke to me she seemed almost proud. It was a nice exchange for the usual stern looks I received from her during classes.

"Self-transfiguration is one of the most difficult types of magic in existence," she explained to me on our last meeting before the end of term. "It takes very talented witches and wizards to complete the process, and even then guidance is almost always given."

"Almost always?" I asked curiously. "Does that mean I could learn to do this on my own if I wanted?"

"Well, certainly you _could_," Professor McGonagall said, "but it is an extremely risky procedure. It is particularly difficult when you begin your first changes, and to do it unsupervised is not advisable."

"Do you know anyone who ever _has_ completed the transformation without being trained first?" I asked, leaning forward in my chair. I don't think there had ever been a time when I had held on to a teacher's words so intently.

"There have been rumours that students once at Hogwarts were able to train themselves without supervision," she said with a doubtful expression. "But that is highly unlikely. A fully trained wizard has a difficult enough time with this kind of magic, never mind children."

"Students? Here?" I asked, very interested. "How would they go about such a thing?"

"Like I've said, Miss Christie, it is a highly improbable story. A student wishing to become an Animagus on their own would have to have access to the knowledge contained in the book I've leant you, as well as a superior knowledge of potion-making. They would also need a partner who was skilled in human transfiguration. It is simply unrealistic to believe any underage witch or wizard could accomplish such a thing single-handedly."

"Supposing they could," I pressed, testing Professor McGonagall's patience, "would that mean they wouldn't need to register with the Ministry of Magic?"

"It is against the law to be an unregistered Animagus," she said with a stern face. "It certainly is possible, yes, but if the culprit were to be caught they would indeed have to face the consequences of standard wizarding law."

I nodded absent-mindedly. I had a strange inkling in my mind that this was somehow relevant. Although it certainly didn't matter to my progress whether a student had been able to become an Animagus on their own, I couldn't help but feel it was important. It was as though an unanswered question in my head was trying to point me towards vital information. I couldn't make a single connection as to why it would be significant, though.

Just like my meetings with Professor McGonagall, the days that had followed my row with Fred had passed without incident. The reason for this was mostly due to the fact that I wasn't much in the mood to hang about with the twins. I was a bit ashamed to admit it, but I was avoiding Fred. He seemed downright barmy lately, and things between us had gotten undeniably strange. At times he acted quite normally around me, and then there were moments when the look in his eyes made me frightened. I kept expecting him to snog me when we were left alone, and I wasn't too fond of the idea, despite the fact that I most certainly did have feelings for him. It seemed every time he came close to acting as though he fancied me, he would jump back two steps and pretend it had never happened. It was confusing, and I wasn't willing to put myself in the same sort of situation again.

Upon my decision to stay away from him, I opted to remain upstairs in my dormitory and read up on the Animagus book Professor McGonagall had lent me. I wasn't much for research when it came to schoolwork, but I found the subject fascinating. Not only was I excited to actually become an Animagus, but ever since the conversation I had had with McGonagall, I was increasingly interested in finding out more. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, exactly, but I felt sure that the answer lay within the pages of text.

I had pulled the curtain around my four-poster bed and settled myself in for some reading. None of the girls were around, so I had the whole room to myself, but I didn't want to risk anyone walking in and seeing my subject of interest. I still wasn't at all keen on having anyone know what I was up to.

_An Animagus holds powers beyond those of a regular witch or wizard. Although disguise is of utmost desire for witches and wizards wishing to become an Animagus, there are other advantages. _

I scrunched up my face and stared down at a few drawings on the page. The first was of a towering blood-thirsty wolf, standing on its hind legs about to attack a frightened-looking cloaked witch. Right next to it, the same witch was drawn in a second sketch, transforming into a rabbit. The werewolf seemed perplexed, but no longer agitated.

_Animagi are immune to the wrath of werewolves, amongst other human-animal crossbreeds. As the primary desire of a werewolf is to attack other human beings, an Animagus in his or her animal state is perfectly safe._

That was interesting. I wondered if I'd ever come face-to-face with a werewolf and get to try it out for myself. I flipped the page over, and my eye was caught by another sketch in the middle of the sheet. This creature I recognized instantly. I almost dropped the book in excitement, and read the passage hurriedly.

_Animagi are also strangely immune to Dementors. This is thought to be caused by the fact that although Dementors feed on the energy and emotion of human beings, they are unable to sense animal emotion. Self-transformation is one of the very few defences against a Dementor attack. The only other proven defence is the Patronus Charm._

I gasped and nearly dropped the book.

Suddenly dots began connecting in my head and my heart was racing furiously.

_That_ was it! That was the answer!

Sirius Black escaped from the Dementors at Azkaban because he hadn't been in his human form. He was an Animagus!

It came to me so quickly that I was sure I couldn't be wrong. It didn't even occur to me that I might be jumping to conclusions. With excitement coursing through my veins I scrambled out of bed, taking the book with me. I hadn't even begun to think about where I was going before I was racing down the stairs and through the common room.

I wasn't aware of where I was going as I hurried through the castle corridors. I knew I had to tell someone my theory. Although Sirius Black had not made an appearance at Hogwarts since the episode with Ron, I knew it was far too dangerous to keep the information to myself. It was very possible that Black was using human transfiguration to gain access to the castle. It would explain his ability to escape from Azkaban unnoticed, and made his double entry into Hogwarts much more feasible. However, this went beyond just the protection of the school. If the Ministry of Magic knew that Sirius Black was an unregistered Animagus it would help them track him down. It was a matter of public safety and I knew I had to report it.

I was rushing through the corridors, still trying to make up my mind about who I was going to see when I heard the unmistakeable voice of caretaker Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. I stopped abruptly, hoping he hadn't heard my footsteps, and held my breath. It sounded like he was on the hunt for misbehaving students. I knew he would never give me the benefit of the doubt. I had been caught breaking rules with Fred and George so many times that it would be thick of me to think he wouldn't jump to the same conclusion this time. Trying very hard to be silent, I slipped into an adjacent corridor to avoid running into Filch and his disgusting cat.

I continued through the darkening hall, running through my list of options in my head. Was my theory really important enough to take straight to Professor Dumbledore, especially at an hour when I should be in my common room and certainly not roaming the corridors alone? I had to admit my idea was a little bit harebrained. I had no real evidence that Black was in fact an Animagus. On the other hand, I couldn't think of another way he'd be able to dodge Dementors on three separate occasions without being seen. If he were using a Patronus it would certainly draw a lot of attention.

I could go to Professor McGonagall, but I somehow couldn't see her taking me seriously. Even through all of the extra time we had spent in private lessons, I doubted she would be impressed with me. She had been the last person to warn me not to be wandering out after hours. I didn't want to disappoint her again, especially if I turned out to be incorrect about Black.

No, I wouldn't go to McGonagall.

Perhaps Professor Lupin?

He had an excellent knowledge of Dark Magic, as proven in his exciting Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, and he could probably confirm or deny my theory just as well as Professor McGonagall could. I wasn't sure how much he knew about human transfiguration, but I felt as though he were my best bet given the situation.

My mind made up, I hurried quickly and quietly through the cold corridors towards Professor Lupin's office. I had never been inside, but I knew exactly where it was thanks to the Marauder's Map. I had even seen him watched him pace between his ink-drawn office walls before Fred and George had given the map to Harry.

I reached Lupin's office feeling out of breath. I had nearly sprinted down the halls, not wanting to get caught wandering. I knocked on the door quietly at first, but when I received no answer I pounded on it again more loudly.

There were no sounds coming from inside the room, but I very suddenly heard a clatter from down the hall. From the sound of the cackling laughter it was unmistakeably Peeves the Poltergeist out causing trouble. I gave a start when I heard a second voice. Professor Snape was nearby, and from the sound of the commotion he was coming in my direction.

Without hesitation I pushed open Professor Lupin's door (thinking idly it was stupid of him to leave it unlocked) and closed it quickly behind me. I ducked into a dark corner and listened intently for the noise to pass. I heard Peeves cackle off into the distance, followed by Snape's sweeping footsteps hurrying by. They faded quickly and I knew I was safe.

Coming out of the shadowy corner I looked around. The light was dim inside the room and Professor Lupin's things were surprisingly orderly. Perhaps his shabby appearance had led me to believe he would be untidy in other areas of his life, but that was not the case. He had very few personal belongings, but seemed to own (or had borrowed) many books about defensive magic. There was a large empty tank sitting in the far corner of the room, and a large trunk on the ground in front of his desk. The top of his desk was littered in a few scattered papers.

My heart leaped as I recognized one of the scrap pieces of parchment instantly.

It was the Marauder's Map.

I rushed over to the desk and picked up the parchment, whipping out my wand from my pocket.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," I said, pointing my wand at the map.

The familiar ink lines of the castle filled themselves in, reaching the far ends of the page. I found the small ink representation of myself immediately and watched to see if there was anyone coming. The corridor looked deserted. I turned my attention, then, to seeking Professor Lupin. I hadn't expected him to be anywhere but his own office, but I doubted he had gone far.

My eyes flitted across the map, searching quietly in the silent room. Most students were in their common rooms, but here and there were a few names of couples who were clearly snogging in out-of-the-way corners. I snickered as I noticed Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater hidden behind a tapestry on the third floor. Obviously they were taking a break from their patrolling duties.

My eyes moved suddenly to a group of people who were outside on Hogwarts grounds. The names _Harry Potter_, _Hermione Granger_, _Ron Weasley_ and—my heart skipped a beat—_Peter Pettigrew_. I pulled the map closer to my face, sure I was seeing things. But no, I couldn't be. It wasn't the first time I had seen Pettigrew's name on the map.

I watched the group of four as they suddenly scattered. Peter was running away and Ron was chasing him… That didn't make any sense! As I continued to watch, however, something infinitely more frightening happened. Another dot had come streaking towards them. It was labelled _Sirius Black_.

I let out a horrified yelp just as the door to the office swung open. I looked up in shock to see Professor Lupin looking at me with a startled expression.

"Miss Christie, what—"

"Professor!" I yelled, hurrying towards him with the map clutched in one hand and my Animagus book in the other. "It's Black! Sirius Black is at Hogwarts, _look_."

I shoved the map under his nose, pointing frantically at the spot where Sirius Black had just collided with Ron Weasley and Peter Pettigrew. Professor Lupin's eyes widened in alarm and I watched as he seemed to piece something together. I could see understanding coming to him, and he was very suddenly pulling his wand out from his robes.

"Juliet," he said sternly, turning to leave the room, "go back to Gryffindor tower."

"What?" I said, feeling bewildered. I dropped the map and my book on his desk and followed him out of his office. "You're barmy."

"Do as I say," he told me, quickening his pace. I was sure he was heading out to find Harry, Hermione and Ron and I certainly was not going to disappear in the middle of the action.

"I'm coming with you," I said, rushing to keep up with his long strides. If those three were in trouble I could not leave in good conscience. Even with Professor Lupin going to help them, I was certain he wouldn't be able to take Black on his own. The man was a maniac. I wasn't claiming to be utterly fantastic at defensive spells, but the idea of leaving my young friends alone when I could potentially assist was barbaric.

"I really must insist," Professor Lupin said, although he made no move at all to stop me.

"And I must insist harder," I muttered as he took off at a sprint. I was following just slightly behind him.

He managed a quick glance over his shoulder as he ran. "Alright then, but keep close."

I was astonished that he was giving me permission to come along. Despite the fact that I wasn't going anywhere while the others were in danger, I would never have imagined that a teacher would lead a student into such a highly dangerous situation. It was as we were exiting the castle and heading towards the Whomping Willow—a spot the others had been near—that I remembered the second peculiar name that had showed up on the map.

"Professor!" I yelled, still sprinting behind him. "If Black is here to kill Harry, then why is Peter Pettigrew here? I thought he was dead. I thought—"

"Sirius Black is most certainly not here to kill Harry Potter," Lupin said. We had come to a stop where the Whomping Willow was in sight. Harry, Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be seen.

"What do you mean?" I asked, squinting through the darkness up at him. "What's he here for, then?"

"Peter," he answered. "This way."

"What? Peter… but why?" I stuttered, feeling utterly bewildered. "Wait—Black's an Animagus," I said, realizing at once that I had entirely forgotten the reason I had left the common room in the first place.

Professor Lupin's eyes snapped to mine. We were only feet away from the Whomping Willow's wild limbs.

"How do you know that?"

"You knew?" I gasped.

"It's a long story," Lupin said, "and we haven't got the time. Come."

I watched in horror as Lupin jogged right up to the thrashing Whomping Willow, dodging branches swiftly as he went. Feeling terrified, I sped up, launching myself towards him.

I only made it a few steps, however, before a gigantic branch came swooping into view. I felt an enormous stab of pain in my stomach, and then I was airborne. The last thing I was aware of was Lupin's yells of surprise as I landed several yards away. Immediately after I felt another crack of pain as I smacked my head on the cold ground and everything went dark.


	20. Headache

**- CHAPTER TWENTY -**

_Headache_

Faint voices were approaching. They were far away and echoed strangely, bouncing off of the walls. It was almost as if I were laying in a tunnel listening to people inch towards me… a very dark, uncomfortable tunnel. My head was throbbing in pain, and I couldn't quite figure out where I was. I shifted and my legs hit a hard wall. I groaned, feeling discomfort seep into all parts of my body.

I opened my eyes and was met only by darkness.

_Where am I?_

I reached for my wand and squinted into my black surroundings.

"Lumos."

The small beam of light didn't do much to assist in my vision. It was still dreadfully dark.

I reached up and touched my aching head, straining to remember how I had gotten into such an uncomfortable space. Hadn't I been in my bed paging through a textbook?

And then it came back to me. The Whomping Willow had struck me as I was following Professor Lupin… but _why_ had I been there? The pain in my head intensified as I tried to think. It came back in waves.

_Sirius Black… Animagus… Peter Pettigrew… Ron… Hermione… Harry…_

"Bloody hell," I grumbled.

It was then that I noticed the voices again. They weren't faint anymore, but sounded very close. I pointed my wand down the tunnel and squinted into the darkness, wondering whether or not I should call out.

Something brushed up against my legs as I moved to a crouched position, huddling in the darkness. I nearly screamed, but then realized it was only a cat—Hermione's cat Crookshanks, to be exact.

I listened carefully and made out what the voices were saying.

"_Are you mad? Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"_

That was Harry… but who was he talking to?

A man's voice I didn't recognize answered.

"_You want to? You mean it?"_

"_Yeah, I mean it!"_

I could see shadowy figures making their way towards me, illuminated by their own wand light. I stood up carefully and moved forward to meet them.

"Harry?" I called cautiously. His voice had been the only one I had recognized.

"Who's there?" came his answer.

"It's alright," Lupin said. I was heartened to hear his voice. "I'm glad you're awake. I was worried we'd have to carry you back to the castle too."

"Who is it?" Hermione spoke.

"It's me," I said as they finally came into view.

"Juliet!" Hermione said. "How did you get down here?"

"She followed me," Professor Lupin said. "She was keen on coming to rescue you, but didn't make it past the Whomping Willow."

I hadn't been paying attention. Instead I was staring at the frightening figures in front of me. Aside from Harry, Hermione and Professor Lupin, the group were also joined by Ron—who was tied up to a small rat-like man with horrible hygiene, Professor Snape—who was quite clearly unconscious and looked very spooky hanging upright in mid-air and… Sirius Black.

"Should I be panicking?" I asked, clutching my wand in sudden terror.

"I guess you've heard of me," Black said. I stared back at him lamely.

"Does someone want to tell me what's going on?" I asked guardedly. I had unconsciously lifted my wand so it was pointed towards Black.

"He's innocent," Harry said, gesturing for me to lower my arm. "It was Pettigrew who betrayed my parents. He's the one who's a Death Eater."

Ron gave the rat-faced man a prod as an introduction, and I realized Professor Lupin was chained to the man's other side. "Yeah, Juliet," Ron said with disdain dripping from his words. "You remember my rat, Scabbers, right? Well here he is."

"Excuse me?" I asked, my eyes widening. "Scabbers?"

"An Animagus," Lupin explained.

"How is he alive?" I asked.

"Staged his own death," Sirius said calmly. "But not before he had written the death sentences of Lily and James Potter. It was easy for him to disappear afterwards, seeing as he could change into a rat on a whim. Very fitting animal, if I do say so myself."

"So he's an Animagus," I repeated. "Like you."

He cast a surprise look at Lupin.

"Juliet is a very clever girl, Sirius," Professor Lupin said. "As I was on my way down here she reported that she had figured out how you were sneaking into the castle. I must admit even I found it difficult to believe that you were using self-transfiguration to escape Azkaban. But it makes perfect sense."

"Really now?" Black said, giving me an impressed look. "No one at the Ministry managed to figure it out. Good for you, Juliet. What's your last name?"

"Er—Christie," I said, feeling incredibly odd. None of them seemed to realize how bizarre the situation was. I felt almost as though I should have had a camera. No one would believe me when I tried to retell the story later. "I'm sorry, but I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around this. You're telling me everything you were pinned for was actually done by _him_?" I cast a doubtful look at the scrawny wizard next to Ron and Professor Lupin. He didn't look like he was capable of any sort of magic, dark or otherwise, and he certainly didn't look like he could have ever reported directly to You-Know-Who. I had never encountered a weaker-looking individual.

"That I am," Black replied. "I don't think we really have the time to tell the story again from the beginning, though."

"Perhaps it can wait until we're up at the castle," Lupin agreed. "Come on, Juliet. We're going to get this situation sorted out right now. Don't be worried, you can trust him just as well as you can any of us."

"Aside from this manky lunatic, of course," Ron said, indicating Pettigrew once more.

"Uh… alright," I said stupidly. The others started to move again, and I fell in with them. I was careful not to stand too close to the chained Peter Pettigrew or Sirius Black. I wasn't about to trust either of them until I knew the whole story.

"So you came to rescue us, did you?" Ron said, interrupting the silence that had fallen once more. "Well, it turns out we didn't need rescuing after all," he said good-naturedly. I realized suddenly that he was looking very pale and ill.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "You're not looking too well."

"That was my fault," Black said. "I was a little too rough when I dragged Ron underground… all in the name of catching the rat, of course."

Pettigrew gave an audible shudder. No one seemed willing to speak to him, but the whole group continually shot him disgusted and wary looks.

"Bent my leg—reckon it's broken," Ron said with a visible wince. "But I'll be fine." Despite his injuries he was rather chatty. I wondered if he was trying to keep his mind off of the pain.

I gave him a skeptical look but said nothing. It was incredible that he was still walking if he really had broken a bone. My head ached just from banging it, I couldn't imagine continuing on with a broken leg.

"Christie, you said?" Black spoke up again as we continued through the tunnel, recapturing my attention. "That sounds familiar. Did your parents go to Hogwarts?"

"They did," Lupin answered as I stared at Black dumbly. Was I honestly having such a casual conversation with a convicted mass-murderer? "Kirk Christie was three years ahead of us—a Gryffindor. He played Keeper on the Quidditch team, remember?"

"That's right!" Sirius said. "I never did talk to him much, but he seemed a nice bloke. A bit on the competitive side, if I remember."

"You know my dad?" I asked, feeling extremely strange.

"We knew your dad," Lupin confirmed. "And your mother—Margaret was a year behind us."

The conversation came to a halt as we reached the end of the tunnel. I could hear thrashing coming from above us. It drowned out the whimpers of Pettigrew.

"Why are we stopping?" I asked.

"We're under the Whomping Willow," Lupin explained. "By the looks of it, Hermione's cat seems to know how to get us out."

I could see the outline of Crookshanks at the front of our group as he climbed upwards toward where I assumed was the entrance.

"Very clever feline you've got there, Hermione," Black commented. I frowned into the darkness. The way he was speaking to everyone was almost as though they were all long-lost friends. Although, I suppose he hadn't had a real conversation with another human being in a long time.

The sound of scraping branches from the Whomping Willow stopped very suddenly. Professor Lupin went through first with Pettigrew and Ron. Black guided Snape's unconscious body up through the tunnel entrance and then stepped back for Hermione, Harry and I to clamber through. I was wary about having my back to Sirius Black, but the others seemed completely convinced of his innocence. I just needed to stick it out until we got back to the castle so I could hear the full story.

The grounds of Hogwarts were very dark when we finally made it out into the night air. It was quiet aside from Pettigrew's occasional whimpers. He was quite pathetic and I would almost pity him if it weren't for the claims that were being made against him. If he really did what Sirius Black claimed—and I was beginning to truly believe it was the case—then I would have no sympathy for him when justice was finally served.

"One wrong move, Peter," Professor Lupin threatened. I could see his wand pointed at him through the darkness.

The group of us moved silently through the Hogwarts grounds. I'm sure we were quite the scene. Snape's head was lolling to the side sickeningly as we walked. It was hard not to watch the way his corpse-like body was floating across the grounds. It was disturbing.

I stared up at the castle, looking at the lights trickling out from the windows. I longed to be in the common room with Fred and George… or maybe just Fred. My body ached from being knocked out and stuffed in an underground tunnel. It would feel delightful to cuddle up to Fred in front of the fire… to feel his calloused hands trace circles on my skin. My imagination was getting the best of me when Sirius suddenly threw out his hand and stopped Harry, Hermione and me.

"What?" I asked, looking down at his hand across us and then towards Ron and Professor Lupin. They had both come to an abrupt stop with Pettigrew between them and Snape running unconsciously into their backs. "What's happened?"

"Lupin," Hermione whispered, casting a frightened look up at the sky. I followed her gaze and saw the moon peeking out from behind clouds. "Oh my—he didn't take his Potion tonight! He's not safe!"

I cast a nervous glance at Professor Lupin and saw that he had begun to shake.

"What—"

"Run," Sirius whispered, cutting me off. "Run! Now!"

Harry leapt forward, trying to get at Ron who couldn't run while he was chained to Pettigrew and Lupin. Feeling completely flabbergasted I clutched my wand tightly and stared at Professor Lupin with a horrified expression etched on my face. Sirius was fighting with Harry, throwing him back towards Hermione and me. The three of us stopped and stared in terror as a horrible snarling sound ripped through Lupin's body. As we watched his head and body began to lengthen, stretching out to twisted proportions. He was sprouting hair everywhere and his hands, I noticed with a shock, were turning into paws.

Crookshanks was spitting and his hair was on end as he backed away from Lupin's gnarled form. I recognized the creature standing in front of me from the book I had been reading only hours earlier.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

I grabbed hold of Hermione's arm instinctively and thrust my wand out in front of me. In an instant Sirius had transformed into an enormous bear-sized black dog. He bounded forwards as the werewolf ripped itself from the chains holding him to Pettigrew and Ron. Sirius launched himself at Lupin, dragging him away from Ron. The display was petrifying. Sounds of snarls, jaws snapping and tearing flesh surrounded us.

Hermione screamed. I tore my gaze from the battle to see Pettigrew jumping for Lupin's dropped wand. Ron fell to his knees and let out a yell of pain. A loud bang and a burst of light followed, and Ron was suddenly motionless on the cold ground. Crookshanks was launched into the air with a second bang, before landing in a heap on the ground once more.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled, disarming Pettigrew. "Stay where you are!"

He made a lunge for Pettigrew, but he was already too late. Pettigrew was Scabbers once more, and he was fleeing. It was so dark that I couldn't even see where the rat had run off to. I doubted we'd be able to follow him even if we could see him. He was far too quick.

A great howl re-captured our attention and we turned just in time to see the werewolf go speeding into the Forbidden Forest.

Feeling shell-shocked, I rushed forward to where Sirius was laying, a great wounded dog.

"Sirius, he's gone, Pettigrew transformed!" Harry yelled.

I had hardly reached him—intending somehow to help—when he had scrambled back upright and gone chasing after the wolf. Harry, Hermione and I were left standing alone with an unconscious Ron and a floating Professor Snape. We dashed quickly to where Ron lay.

"What did he do to him?" Hermione whispered.

Ron was surely alive. He looked almost as though he were sleeping with his eyes half-open.

"I don't know," Harry answered.

"Ron?" I asked, crouching over his lanky frame. It was hard to tell whether or not he was awake. In any case, he didn't seem to be in any condition to respond. "I'm not sure he can hear us."

"We'd better get them up to the castle and tell someone," Harry said as the three of us stared out into the darkness anxiously. I was straining to hear sounds of paws running along the ground. "Come—"

Just as I was beginning to hoist Ron up a loud yelping sounded from the darkness. It was Sirius—the sound of a dog in pain. It didn't sound as though it were coming from the forest.

"Sirius," Harry muttered.

It took only a moment's hesitation before Harry was taking off at a sprint towards the sound. Hermione followed closely behind him. I gazed at Ron's sleepy eyes a moment longer before I decided there was nothing I could do to help him. Placing him back on the ground next to Snape I hurried after Harry and Hermione. I couldn't let them face a fully transformed werewolf on their own.

We ran flat out towards the sound. It was hard to tell in the dark, but I was sure we were approaching the lake. As we ran, I felt the cold before I comprehended it. We were already upon the shore of the lake before I realized what was going on.

Sirius—in his true form once more—was crouching on his hands and knees, moaning out in pain. Above him swirled dozens of Dementors. There could have been a hundred of them or more… it was the most I had ever seen in one place. I stared, horror-struck as the black hooded figures moved towards us. They were coming for Sirius.

"Hermione, Juliet, think of something happy!" Harry yelled. I could barely hear him speaking. The cold was nearly unbearable.

Trying to focus, I lifted my wand just as Harry and Hermione did.

"Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!" Harry was yelling. Nothing was happening and I could feel my knees starting to buckle. I was getting dizzy, and I could no longer make out Sirius or Harry or Hermione.

"Expecto patronum! Help me! Expecto patronum!"

Hermione was chanting now too, in a feeble, whispery voice. I tried to hold onto their voices. I pushed my wand arm to lift so I could help too. Sirius needed help. But the Dementors were closing in. It was too late…

As Harry's yells echoed in my fading mind I was once again lost to darkness.

* * *

I woke up for the second time that day feeling dizzy and disoriented. My head was throbbing where I had smacked it on the hard ground, and I was feeling weak and unstable. Scratching at my eyes I squinted out at my surroundings.

I realized almost at once that I was in the hospital wing, safely tucked away in the castle. I jerked my head around in search of the others (feeling a sharp shock of pain from the sudden movement). They _had_ made it back… hadn't they?

I was relieved to see Ron lying in a cot on the far left side of the room. He was asleep and looked alright—or at least better than he had the last time I had laid eyes on him. Where the others were, however, I hadn't the foggiest idea. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as the memory of what had taken place came rushing back to me. Professor Lupin was a werewolf. Sirius was attacked by Dementors. What were the chances that everyone else had made it back unscathed?

"Where is everyone?" I asked, suddenly realizing Ron wasn't the only other person in the room with me. Madam Pomfrey was there, tending to the beds.

There was a sound of curtains being drawn and Harry and Hermione appeared from behind a panel of fabric that had been separating them from the rest of the room. They both looked healthy… and even _pleased_.

"It's a right good thing you woke up," Madam Pomfrey said. "When Professor Snape brought you in I was afraid the damage may be permanent."

"Professor Snape?" I asked incredulously. "He's okay then? And Harry and Hermione—you two are all right? What about Lupin—and Sirius…what's happened to him?"

"Yes, of course," she said calmly, although her eyes were wide. "Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, as you can see, are quite safe. The three of you were up against quite a number of Dementors. It is incredible that you all made it out alive."

"Or with our souls intact, rather," Harry said. He and Hermione had moved to get up from their own cots, but Madam Pomfrey shot them a look that warned them to stay put.

"Professor Lupin is… resting," she said, giving me a significant look. "He will be well again in time, but it is for the best that he is _detained_ for now."

"And Sirius?" I asked abruptly. Madam Pomfrey stared at me with a mixture of fear and suspicion.

"He was sentenced to the Dementors kiss," she told me and my eyes widened in horror. I could feel my stomach turn over. "However, it didn't go as planned. He somehow managed another impossible escape—this time from the topmost tower of the castle."

My heart lightened immediately. The relief must have shown on my face, because she was staring at me in bewilderment.

"I daresay it seems he has access to dark powers the Ministry has never dreamed of," she said.

I let the relief wash over me. He had gotten away. The only mystery was _how_ he had managed it. I cast a look at Harry and Hermione and sensed that they had more information. I would have to wait for Pomfrey to leave the room before I could hear it, however.

"So he's gone?" I asked, trying not to sound too pleased.

"To Merlin knows where," Pomfrey confirmed. I watched as she seemed to shake herself of worry. "Now that's quite enough. How are you feeling? Any dizziness?"

"None," I said truthfully. In fact, as soon as I had seen Hermione and Harry in the corner I was feeling anxious and excited. The memory of the Dementors had rushed back to me full-force. I had been sure we were all done for before I had blacked out. It was a miracle any of us had made it out.

"You're all to stay here for the night," she told me sternly. "I can't be certain you haven't sustained permanent damage until I've monitored all of you."

"How is Ron?" I asked, casting a glance over at him as Madam Pomfrey conjured a glass of water and handed it to me along with a bar of Honeydukes chocolate.

"I've given him a sleeping drought," she said, "but he's otherwise fine. It's you I'm most worried over."

"Why?" I asked. "I feel fine."

"Professor Snape said you'd sustained a head injury. Healing a brain is a difficult and dangerous matter. We ran the risk that you may not wake up," she explained as she pounded on my pillow and forced me back down against it.

"Well I feel perfect," I told her. It wasn't entirely true, but I didn't believe there was any reason for me to stay cooped up in the hospital wing. "Are you sure I've got to stay?"

"All four of you are to keep to these beds," she said, casting a glance around at Harry and Hermione. "It's best you get a good quiet night's sleep here to recover."

Sensing there was going to be no negotiation, I let Madam Pomfrey fuss over me for a few more minutes before she bustled out of the room. As soon as she had gone I had reached for my wand at the side of my bed.

"Muffliato," I said, pointing at the door Madam Pomfrey had disappeared into. I turned immediately to Harry and Hermione. "Okay, what the bloody hell happened? How did we survive those Dementors? And _how on earth_ did Black escape?"

Harry and Hermione's eyes were alight with excitement. They stayed where they were, but leaned forward on their beds.

"Harry saved us back there with the Dementors," Hermione explained. "He cast an amazing Patronus and scared them all off."

"Blimey Harry!" I commended. "That's bloody brilliant!"

"It was nothing," Harry said, failing to sound modest.

"It was not," Hermione objected. "You saved our lives."

"So how did Black get caught?" I questioned. "How come he didn't run off when the Dementors fled?"

"He had already passed out," Harry explained. "He was brought back up to the castle. We tried to explain that he's innocent, but Snape went against us."

"Bloody bastard," I grumbled. Hermione looked disapproving. "He wasn't even awake. How would he know what went on?"

"He doesn't know," Hermione said. "But that doesn't matter. Snape has held a grudge against Sirius for years. Regardless of what really happened, Snape is the last person who would accept Black's innocence without any proof."

"And without Pettigrew, we have no proof," Harry said.

"So what happened then?" I asked. "How did he get away?"

Hermione and Harry cast a glance at each other.

"Dumbledore had an idea," Hermione said.

"So he believes Sirius?" I said, feeling relieved. Having Dumbledore on our side made everything seem less insane. More than anything else, it was the fact that he believed Sirius that managed to clear any doubt that may have been lingering in my mind. "What did he do?"

The two of them glanced at each other again.

"We don't know, exactly," Harry said hesitantly. "But we do know it worked."

I frowned.

"Really?" I said. "That's all you know?"

"It involved snatching Black from the tower," he said.

"The point is he's gone," Hermione said. "He got away, and Dumbledore is having the Dementors removed from school property immediately."

"Well that's a relief," I said. I had a feeling the two of them knew more than they were letting on, but I wasn't about to push the matter. In reality it didn't even matter how Black had escaped. It was just a relief that an innocent life had been spared. Black had defended the lot of us against Lupin. It would have been a devastating loss to hear that he had been recaptured. "And what about Lupin?"

"He's still in the forest," Hermione said with a frown. "He can't come up to the castle in the state he's in."

"I guess not," I said thoughtfully. "I can't believe he was able to hide the fact that he's a werewolf from everyone."

"It probably wasn't wise of him," Hermione said. "Snape has been trying to bring it out into the open all year. Remember that werewolf essay he had us write while Professor Lupin was out sick?"

"So Snape knew," I said. "I'll have to tell George. He didn't stop complaining about that essay for weeks. I wonder why it was kept so quiet, though."

"Werewolves are dangerous," Hermione said. "If the wizarding world knew one of them was teaching at Hogwarts—"

"Dumbledore trusts him," Harry interrupted. "And despite what happened tonight, so do I."

"Of course, Harry," Hermione said offhandedly. "We all trust Professor Lupin, I was merely explaining that—"

The conversation was interrupted as Madam Pomfrey re-entered the room.

"Lights out you three," she said. We had fallen quiet immediately. Although I knew the _Muffliato _charm had kept her from hearing us talking, I didn't think she'd approve of the three of us sitting up in our cots when we were supposed to be asleep.

She extinguished the lights and bade us goodnight. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight of the full moon streaming in through the windows. I heard the door click again as Madam Pomfrey left once more.

Harry and Hermione fell silent and I stared up at the ceiling. The day's events flitted in and out of my head as I listened to the slow breathing of the others in the room.

I wasn't sure how long it took for Harry and Hermione to fall asleep, but I was sure I was the only one awake when the main entrance door opened.

Sitting up with a start I stared into the darkness at a shadowy figure. Whoever it was came creeping forwards through the night. I felt for my wand and gripped it tightly in my right hand.

"Lumos," I said, and it was echoed by a voice by the door.

In an instant Fred Weasley's eyes met mine and I felt myself laughing in relief.

"Bloody hell, Fred," I whispered. "You scared me."

"Scared you?" he said incredulously. "How about me? I've been going barmy wondering where you've been!" he said harshly. He turned his wand towards Harry and Hermione and cast the same charm I had on Madam Pomfrey's room to keep them from waking up at the sound of our voices. He cast a glance over at Ron, but deciding he was out cold he turned his attention back to me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I would have come to see you straight away, but I can't exactly just walk out of here."

"Pomfrey's got you on lock and key," Fred said with a nod.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as he took a seat at the end of my bed. I placed my illuminated wand on the nightstand, letting the light fall over the two of us.

"Didn't you just hear me? I was worried," he answered.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked, feeling a little flattered that he had snuck out in the middle of the night to check up on me.

"There are rumours flying all around the castle. After Black escaped your names were tossed around," he answered. "You can't imagine the stress I've been through worrying about what happened."

"Rumours?" I asked. "What rumours?"

"Well you wouldn't have heard them, would you? You've been stuck in here the whole time," he pointed out. "Professor Snape makes it sound like you lot had something to do with Black getting away. That's not true though, is it?"

"I have no idea how he got away," I said truthfully, watching Fred carefully. He really did look concerned. Clearly he had been worried enough to come as soon as the coast was clear rather than waiting until daylight like everyone else. I could feel myself smiling unconsciously at his effort.

"Then what happened?" he asked. "Where were you all night?"

"It's a long story," I said.

Fred stared at me expectantly.

"The short version is Black is innocent," I said. "He didn't kill those people. Peter Pettigrew did, and he's been hiding away ever since. He's been disguising himself as Ron's rat."

Fred's eyes widened in shock. "Scabbers? That's barmy. There were witnesses. People saw Black kill Pettigrew."

"It's true," I insisted, shaking my head. "Pettigrew's an Animagus. So is Black, actually. I was on my way to tell Professor Lupin about Black when the whole thing sort of unfolded. Pettigrew was here, but he got away. There wasn't any proof of Black's innocence, so he was supposed to be given up to the Dementors. I'm not sure how he managed to get away, but it's a right good thing he did."

"Innocent?" Fred asked doubtfully.

"Trust me. I saw it with my own eyes."

"Bloody hell," he whispered, still staring at me in surprise.

I nodded in response, but said nothing.

"So what are you still doing here?" Fred asked. "You seem fine to me."

"I am fine," I said. "Pomfrey wants us all to get a good night's sleep. She was worried I might have sustained permanent brain damage."

"I think that ship has sailed," Fred joked, glancing around at where Ron was still sleeping silently. "Do you realize this is the second time you've ended up in the hospital wing this year? You're a bloody hazard."

I laughed half-heartedly and gazed at Fred. It felt good to be talking to him after everything that had happened. It felt much longer than a mere day since I had begun avoiding him due to the tension between us. Sitting there with him felt easy.

"I've missed you," I blurted, feeling immediately stupid.

Fred laughed.

"It hasn't been long since we've seen each other," he said.

"It feels like it has," I said, screwing up my face in thought. "I've blacked out twice since then."

"You haven't told me exactly what happened to you," he pointed out. He reached over and pushed some of the tangled hair out of my face. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I probably looked like a right mess. "And what about Professor Lupin? People are saying he's a _werewolf_," he said, as if he had just remembered.

I frowned. "Also true," I said. "He transformed tonight. No one's hurt, though," I said quickly, catching the panic in Fred's eyes.

"Alright, you've got to tell me what happened," he urged.

"Can we save it for later?" I pleaded. "I don't think I'm up to reliving it just yet."

"Jules—"

"Please Fred?" I asked. "I'm exhausted and I'll have to tell George tomorrow anyhow."

Fred gave me a small smile.

"Alright, that's fair," he said. "Do you want me to leave so you can get some rest?"

"No," I said, rather too quickly. "No, stay. Let's just… talk."

Fred gave me a teasing look.

"Alright, I'll stay," he said. "I haven't got any place better to be anyway."

I felt myself blush for asking him to stay so vehemently. Trying to avoid his gaze, I stared down at the folds of my blanket and said nothing. It felt like ages before he broke the silence again.

"Do you remember that detention we got together this year?" Fred asked.

I looked up, surprised by the change of topic, but thankful for it nonetheless. "You'll have to be more specific," I said. "We've had plenty of detentions this year."

Fred laughed. "It was the one that ended in you falling down a few stairs, landing you in here."

I snickered, the embarrassing memory of my clumsiness flooding back. "Yeah, I remember. And that was almost a full flight of stairs, I'll have you know."

"Do you also remember making me a promise that night?" Fred said, ignoring my comment.

"A promise?" I asked, confused. "When was that?"

"I had suggested we sneak into Filch's office and do some snooping. You didn't have the nerve, so I told you that you owed me a favour to be called in at my desire," he explained.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said. "And of course I'd have the nerve. I probably just didn't feel like getting another week's worth of detentions, is all."

"Whether you remember it or not," he said, ignoring me and giving me a cheeky smirk, "it happened."

"Alright, fine. What's your point?" I asked, stifling a yawn.

"I'm calling in the favour," he said, looking at me meaningfully. I felt my heartbeat quicken at the look of seriousness in his eyes.

My attention was momentarily captured by movement across the room as Ron stirred.

"I think Ron's awake," I said quietly.

"Ignore him," Fred answered sternly. He caught my gaze again and held it. "Kiss me."

I gave a start and my eyes widened in shock. "What? Excuse me?"

I could hear Ron grumbling from his spot in the room. "Whoserre?" he mumbled, lifting his head and squinting in our direction.

"Shut it, Ron," Fred told him. "Go back to bed."

He reached over and took my hand in his, moving himself closer to me. Ron was sitting up in his bed, staring in confusion over at the two of us.

"Juliet," Fred said. "Kiss me."

"Whassat?" Ron said, sounding more alert. "Bloody hell, no, don't do that!"

Fred ignored his brother and reached out to touch my neck. His hand resting at the side of my face, he pulled me closer to him. I half wanted to pull away, but I felt petrified into place. I hadn't been so close to him since the Quidditch match when he had snogged me.

"Juliet," he repeated. He looked expectant.

"Yeah, Fred?" I asked. My voice was a whisper, and I was having trouble looking away from his mouth.

"If you don't do it I will," he joked, his lips breaking into a teasing smile.

_Oh, to hell with it_.

Throwing caution to the side and squashing the doubt I had in my mind I leaned forward and closed the gap between us. Ron's groans filled the background, but I was lost to Fred. It was entirely different from the first kiss we had shared. The last one had been rushed, whereas there in the hospital wing with no one around (aside from an unimpressed Ron—"Do you have to do that while I'm here?") it felt soft and… meaningful.

Fred's hands were both on my face, and mine were around his firm shoulders. I could feel myself pulling him towards me, yearning to deepen the kiss when Ron, fed up with the display, tossed his pillow at the two of us. With a grunt Fred separated from me looking flushed and slightly embarrassed.

"That'll teach you not to eavesdrop, Ron," Fred said, tossing the pillow back at his brother. When he turned back to me his eyes were glinting in the darkness. "You should get some rest," he said, leaning forward to press his lips to my forehead. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Er… okay, sure Fred," I said, stumbling over my words as he stood up and headed towards the door. "Goodnight."

He turned and grinned back at me, giving me a wink I just made out through the dim light.

"Goodnight Juliet."

I waited for him to shut the door behind him before I groaned up at the ceiling, falling back onto my mattress feeling flustered. That kiss was _good_ and I certainly hadn't wanted it to end.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked irritably.

I sighed, throwing a dark look in his direction.

"Shut up, Ron."

* * *

**A/N**: Hello out there? I know this story is old news for a lot of people and therefore I haven't received many (or any) reviews for these new chapters. However, if you _are_ reading and could drop me a line letting me know if you're enjoying the story I would greatly appreciate it!


	21. Farewell

**A/N**: Here it is... the final chapter of the revamped _It Happens in Threes_. I hope you've all enjoyed this story! Please leave me a review when you reach the end, and make sure you check out the author's note at the bottom of the page!

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**- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE -**

_Farewell_

What had passed between Fred and me the night before felt like a dream. When I faced him the next day the tension between us was unspoken. We were perfectly able to interact normally on the surface, but I knew both of our minds were back on the cot in the hospital wing. As far as I could tell, George had no idea about what had happened between us, and until Fred and I could discuss it alone I didn't want to bring it up.

The three of us had discussed the previous night's events regarding Sirius Black from the moment I had made it out of the hospital wing. Although I didn't have any information regarding Black's escape, the two of them still hung on my every word. I wished I hadn't been out cold for the majority of the night, but aside from Harry, Ron and Hermione there wasn't a single student in the castle who knew more than I did. The speculations about what had happened were circling through the school. It had become common knowledge that Hagrid's Hippogriff Buckbeak had also escaped a terrible fate. The poor thing had been sentenced to death by the Ministry of Magic, but had miraculously disappeared mere minutes before he was to be killed. I had wondered whether Buckbeak's escape had anything to do with Black being freed, but Harry had vehemently insisted he didn't know what I was talking about when I asked him.

Professor Lupin had announced that he was leaving his teaching post. It had come as a blow to the majority of the school population, but there was no denying that parents would be furious when they found out a werewolf lay within the same walls as their children. Lupin didn't have a choice but to step down, or he'd risk an inquiry from the Ministry.

Overall, despite the gloom over Lupin's decision and the general fright that everyone was feeling over Black's escape, the castle was generally cheerful. The Dementors had been removed from school property, leaving students to roam the castle grounds freely during the beautiful summer weather. The common room and corridors were nearly always deserted as everyone flooded outdoors to enjoy their last Hogwarts hours in the sunshine. Fred, George and I were amongst the only people still inside, hiding away in the kitchens while the others took advantage of the final Hogsmeade visit of the year.

"So he's just vanished?" George asked, gaping at me as he picked apart a forgotten treacle tart on his plate. I had just finished telling him about the encounter I had had with Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. The twins had been appalled to hear that Pettigrew had escaped after they had understood the full story of his bloodied past.

"Gone," I confirmed. "He transformed and ran off."

"Scabbers," George muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "The whole time he was living in our house!"

"But where has he gone?" Fred asked. His eyes met mine and our gazes held for a moment too long. I felt my breath catch in my throat.

"Merlin knows," I said with a shrug. Fred's eyes were searching. I couldn't bring myself to look away.

"You don't think he could go back to… to You-Know-Who, do you?" George asked.

"Well no one knows where You-Know-Who is, do they?" Fred replied, tearing his eyes away from mine. I felt an immediate sense of relief. I hoped George hadn't noticed the awkwardness between us. "How d'you reckon Pettigrew would find him?"

"Say he does," I said, "I can't imagine You-Know-Who would be very happy to see him. Pettigrew's spent over a decade in hiding. He faked his own death to avoid admitting he was actually involved with the Dark Arts."

Regardless of how much we speculated, none of us could have any way of knowing where Pettigrew had run off to—neither could we come up with a feasible explanation for Sirius Black's miraculous escape. It was probably for the best that we didn't know the full truth. The fewer who knew, the safer it would be for Black to go into hiding.

When the three of us had exhausted the topic of Sirius Black it was nearly time for dinner. I had been on pins and needles waiting for the girls to arrive back so I could talk to them about Fred. When Katie and Alicia had returned with Lee I made a point of excusing myself from the twins to seek out the girls. I was bursting with the need to talk to someone about what had happened, and I was by no means willing to speak to George… or Lee.

The two of them reacted predictably. They were both equally stunned when I recalled the encounter in the hospital wing, but as the story progressed the surprise seemed to wear off quickly.

"So tell us again what happened," Katie urged.

The three of us sat under a big willow tree next to the lake as the sun sunk lower in the sky. We had taken a few handfuls of food with us to munch on while the rest of the school enjoyed dinner in the Great Hall.

"I've told you half a dozen times already," I protested, although I didn't have the heart to stop talking about it. I could feel myself flushing up as I recounted the annoyance Fred had shown when Ron had interrupted us kissing.

"I just can't believe it," Katie said. "After what happened the last time… I was sure it was over when nothing came of it."

"Why hasn't he said anything to you about it since?" Alicia asked.

"We haven't been alone since," I said.

"So why are you sitting here talking to us?" Katie asked. "You should be getting him alone so he can pluck up the courage and talk to you properly."

"Do you think Fred would actually do that?" I said with a frown. "I already thought he was interested once this year, and it turned out to be a fluke."

"A fluke?" Alicia said in disbelief. "Please, Juliet. That was not a fluke. Fred's daft but he couldn't be more obvious."

"Normally I'd agree with you," I said, "but when it comes to this I don't think there's anyone less obvious than Fred."

"You can't be serious," Katie laughed. "He's snogged you twice already and hasn't so much as made eyes at another bird since the start of the year!"

"Bird, Kates?" I said. "Ladylike, really."

"My point is Fred clearly fancies you," she said plainly. "You should talk to him about it."

My stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. Confrontation—especially in the case of relationships—was not something I thrived at.

I sighed. "I know I should. I've just got a horrible case of the nerves over the whole thing."

"This is _Fred_ we're talking about," Alicia pointed out. "He may make a lot of silly girls in this castle weak in the knees, but I would never have guessed you'd react this way."

I let out a laugh despite myself. "You're right… I don't know what's come over me."

"You'll figure it out," Katie encouraged. "Just… whatever happens, don't give him too much satisfaction. He drives the rest of us bonkers at the best of times."

* * *

The last remaining hours at Hogwarts before summer hit passed almost too quickly for me to register. The fifth years were receiving their O.W.L.s back and I was pleased to see I had managed passing grades in History of Magic, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and an Outstanding in Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. I had even managed an Acceptable in Potions… although I had failed my practical examination, the written portion was enough to pass me. I had, however, failed Muggle Studies with a Poor. I had been a bit embarrassed until Fred had shown me his Dreadful Herbology mark. Overall I was pleased. It was a relief to have achieved as many O.W.L.s as I had.

At the end of the year feast Gryffindor was awarded the House Cup. After the excitement of winning the Quidditch Cup, the House Cup spread elation amongst our house. The frightening events of the school year seemed all but forgotten as our last days came to a close.

It wasn't long before Alicia, Katie and I were desperately fitting some last-minute items in to our trunks for the train-ride home. Amongst my usual items of cloaks, robes, weekend wear, Quidditch equipment, textbooks and school supplies, I also had a shove quite a few new items into my trunk. Hurriedly packing up my belongings I found a few scattered candies that were labeled with a hand-written _W_, a ball of Perception Putty that was hairy with fluff from my clothing, several broken quills and my supply of Animagus potion for the summer. Everything went into my trunk and was forced shut.

"All right, I think that's everything," I said to Alicia and Katie, who were both trying to stuff a few more forgotten items in to their bags.

"Al…most…done," Alicia grunted. She was having great difficulty fitting the last of her books in amongst her clothing and Quidditch gear. Her honey brown hair was flying around with the effort.

"I guess we'd better get a move-on then," Katie suggested as she did a quick scan of the room to ensure we weren't forgetting anything.

"The blokes will be waiting," I agreed.

After a final glance under my four-poster bed, I took hold of my trunk and began to drag it out of the door and down to the common room.

Fred, George and Lee were already heading out of the portrait hole door when we reached the bottom of the staircase. We hurried to catch up to them, reaching the door just before it swung closed.

"Until next year," George greeted the Fat Lady, giving her a cheeky grin and a wave.

"Not many of those left," she replied, looking pleased as she held a goblet in one fat hand. "Just a few short years and I'll be rid of you troublemakers for good. I'll drink to that!"

As the six of us made our way through the castle for the last time of the term, my eyes were instinctively on Fred. Despite my conversation with Katie and Alicia, I hadn't managed to muster up the courage to talk to him about what had happened between us. More than ever I was feeling the desire to sort everything out with him, but I still feared it may be for the best to just let it go. It may be cowardly to say, but imagining myself pursuing a relationship with Fred was terrifying. I'm ashamed to admit I preferred to wait for him to make the first move in striking that particular conversation.

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten!" George said, turning to grin at me as we reached the horseless carriages. "Juliet, did Fred give you the good news?"

Fred smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand as we began climbing into our carriage.

"Merlin! You're right, George, I plum forgot!"

George looked appalled and took a seat down next to me.

"Well if Fred here wasn't such a knob, he would have remembered to tell you that Dad has managed to get us tickets to the Quidditch World Cup this summer," George stated.

"And we're inviting you to come along," Fred continued, grinning at me from his seat across from me.

"Lee's going to be there too, and I suspect you two girls are going as well?" George asked Alicia and Katie.

"I won't be," Katie said, "I'll be gone all summer visiting family in Paris."

"Pff," George said dismissively. "If you'd rather spend time with family than watch the Quidditch World Cup then you're daft, Kates."

"You're going to miss out on good fun," Lee said with a grin on his face. I could almost see the pictures swimming in his mind.

"What d'you say Jules?" George asked, ignoring Alicia as she launched into her own story about why she wouldn't be going to the game either.

"Well of course I'd love to!" I said excitedly as Alicia looked put out at being unobserved by George. "Thanks for the invite."

"Brilliant," the blokes said in unison.

As our travel scenery changed from a horseless carriage to a scarlet steam engine, I basked in the carefree joy that came from having the six of us together. The year had taken me through many ups and downs, and it was nice to see that despite the chaos there was still a sense of steadiness within our group of tight-knit friends.

When the train came to a stop at King Cross station, I felt a sadness wash over me. It was difficult to say goodbye after spending so many consecutive days together. As we all gathered our things and hurried off of the train we gave each other our goodbyes. Katie ran off to find her parents and Alicia quickly spotted her older sister waving her over from the parking lot. Lee slapped Fred, George and I on the shoulders and bustled off into the crowd leaving the three of us to find our respective families.

"Are you going to come stay with us over the summer, Jules?" George asked me as the three of us rolled our trunks along behind us.

"Ah," I said, pretending to sound strained. "I'm not sure I can take much more of the two of you."

"Ah, we love you too," Fred laughed, grabbing my free hand in his. I looked down at our entwined fingers and frowned. It was only just a year ago that such a simple gesture would have been meaningless between us. After all that we had been through, however, it felt like it meant much more.

I caught his gaze and felt myself grin at the flirtation in his eyes. If there's one thing that could be said about Fred Weasley, it was that he continuously kept me on my toes.

My parents were waiting for me with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were already greeting Ron and a very excited-looking Ginny.

"Oh, here they are now!" Mrs. Weasley said, waving us toward her. "I'd thought you'd gotten lost!"

She pulled Fred and George into a hug, placing a kiss on each of their cheeks—to which they responded with identical groans.

"Juliet, dear, you've made it back in one piece," my dad joked as I greeted my parents warmly. "I consider that a fair accomplishment considering the trouble you three no doubt got into this term."

"You've got no faith in me," I joked.

"You don't have to worry," George said, leaning over to give my shoulder a squeeze. "I made sure to keep her out of trouble. Can't say the same for Fred, mind. He was running amok with dear Juliet all year."

Fred shot his brother a dark look and I gave a nervous laugh. I hadn't forgotten how intuitive my mother had been the last time she had seen Fred and I together.

"Well Juliet, you'd better get going. There's no reason for you three to have to wait around for the rest of our lot to get here." Mrs. Weasley said to my parents and me. "But do be sure to come visit over the summer."

"You can count on it," I said, smirking at Fred and George.

"Alright then, come now, give us another hug."

"Come on Molly, you'll squeeze the life right out of them," Mr. Weasley said as his wife moved from hugging me to pulling Harry into a sort of death-grip.

Everyone shared a laugh before the large party began to split up. Harry headed off towards the Dursleys and Hermione found her parents in the crowd of excited students and families. I bade farewell to the Weasleys and turned to leave, following my parents through the pack of people.

"Juliet, wait!"

I stopped, letting my parents get ahead and turned to look behind me. I was surprised, but very pleased to see it was Fred who was calling me back.

"What is it, Fred?" I asked, allowing an excited smile to creep onto my face despite my better judgment.

He stared at me a moment as if he had something to say, but as I watched he seemed to falter.

"Fred?" I asked when he failed to speak.

"I just, wanted to—"

"What?" I asked, and I unconsciously placed my hand on his chest.

There was an awkward pause where we both looked down at my hand before our eyes met up again. Fred gaped at me for a minute before clearing his throat and looking away in embarrassment.

"…remind you to write to me," he said.

I let out a breathy sigh, unsure if I felt more relieved or disappointed. I let my hand slip from his chest to rest awkwardly at my side.

"Of course I'll write, why wouldn't I?" I asked in what I hoped was a casual voice.

"Just didn't want you to forget," he said with a sheepish shrug.

"Well I promise I won't forget," I replied, feeling increasingly stupid. "I'll see you soon, Fred."

He gave me a lopsided smile and enveloped me in one last hug. I wanted very much to kiss him, but squashing down the sudden impulse I settled on giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Er… bye," I stammered, feeling my face heat up.

He grinned back at me and bent to press his lips to my temple. "See you, Jules."

With that, Fred turned and ran back to the group of red-heads waiting for him, leaving me with the suspicious feeling that there was something he hadn't told me.

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you to each and every person who has left me a review! I've had a lot of ups and downs with this story, and I'm happy to say I'm finally finished with it. I don't think it's the best writing, by any means, but I am proud of it. As I said in the very first chapter of this story, I began writing it when I was only twelve, and I've managed to see it through to the end. At the very least it has helped me improve my writing skills and hopefully given each of you a bit of entertainment while you pass the time online.

Please leave me a review as I love to hear what you have to say. In addition, if you're ready for more the sequel to _It Happens in Threes_ is already up (and completed!). It is called _The Plot Thickens_. So if you want to see what happens next, by all means, go visit my profile now!

Thanks again for your support and, as always, happy reading!


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